


For you, always

by Sheska



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Awkward Flirting, Balloons, Canon-Typical Violence, Cruelty, Dark Stuff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Falling In Love, Fever, Fluff and Angst, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Ocs for plot reasons, Pain, Panic Attacks, Protectiveness, Racism against androids, Redemption, Sick Character, Stabbing, Threats of Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-07-11 00:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheska/pseuds/Sheska
Summary: It starts with a single sentence. "You owe me."It's surprising, really, how far reaching the consequences of three simple words can be.





	1. You owe me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please mind the tags. I also don't know how dark this will get. I'm done with chapter 2 as well, and it was sweet so far, but I know there will be very intense scenes in the chapters after that.

“You owe me.”

Gavin was confident he would just get a dismissive response to his remark.

He hadn’t really done anything noteworthy, anyhow, apart from filing the charges for the suspect who had decked Anderson during the chase earlier and finishing the report. Which was his job, sure, but doing it all on his own, on behalf of two people he didn't even like, was enough decency to last him at least another year.

It wasn’t like Gavin had done it to make up for a blunder or anything. Like not noticing the suspect hiding behind a door before giving the all clear … Obviously, it was the damn android criminal’s fault for being so sneaky and silent.

Despite all of that, he wasn't remotely nice enough to just let it go without guilt-tripping the android detective a little, which was why he was here right now, talking to him at all. He didn't bank on it, but maybe he would get something out of it after all.

"Took me three hours of overtime yesterday night, just so you could come in late today and play nurse for Anderson."

The plastic prick had been too frantic to do any of the work himself, fussing over Hank’s bloody head wound and the old man’s obvious concussion. So much for androids being better than humans, right?

When Connor finally looked up at him, he expected to be met with some attitude, a cold stare or a snarky remark or something.

That was why, when all he got was an earnest smile, it made Gavin do a double take.

“Thank you, Detective Reed. I appreciate it. Let me know if I can do something to make it up to you.”

Huh?

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

Why was Connor acting like this, all grateful and honest and shit? They were usually snarling at each other or bickering over every little thing. Or, more accurately, Gavin snarling at Connor and Connor being aloof or deadpan about it, driving him insane.

Not having that routine now gave Gavin no leg to stand on. It was off-putting and embarrassing. He needed a goddamn script for talking to the damn machine like he would a human. Fuck, he wasn't even good at talking to actual people out of the blue.

“Err … I, yeah, um, sure.”

Wow, he really was a master of words. Making a fool of himself in front of the metal man. Great.

“Well, I … gotta go, tin can.”

Connor didn’t even react to the derogatory nickname, just nodding courtly, deviating even more from their usual interactions by being all sunshine and rainbows all of a sudden and looking at Gavin with those doe eyes and a smile.

“Alright, see you around, Detective. And thanks again!”

Fucking hell.

God, he hated androids and their fucking unpredictability.

 

\---

 

Being sick sucked. Being sick and running after a goddamn criminal sucked even harder.

Gavin could barely see where he was going anymore, the world distorting between his watering eyes and the dizziness brought on by his fever. Yet he kept chasing, willing his aching muscles to carry him faster and faster still.

His chest was burning, the too cold autumn air not really helping with suppressing the urge to expel his lungs through his mouth, and his hammering heart too, while he was at it.

The blood in his veins was too hot and he was shivering and shaking.

Fucking hell, he’d been fine this morning. A headache, a little nausea, a slight cough and a fever that barely counted as one.

Now he was just about ready to keel over and die on the spot.

His suspect turned a corner, vanishing from view – and shit, were all androids built to be the fastest fucking sprinters in the universe or just the ones he had to go after?

He had no chance of ever catching her. A more reasonable man would have thrown in the towel by now.

Yeah, fuck reasonable. He wasn’t in the lineup for becoming a lieutenant soon for giving in easily.

So he sped up more, skidding around the corner and almost crashing into none other than the plastic detective himself, who was casually holding onto Gavin’s suspect, not the least bit deterred by her thrashing and cursing.

“The fuck?” Gavin managed to force out, panting so heavily he could barely hear Connor’s reply.

“Hello, Detective Reed. I was in the area when I noticed you. You looked like you needed a hand.”

Smug bastard, grinning at Gavin all high and mighty. Fucking androids.

Gavin was about to retaliate as much, but no words came out when he tried to speak. Instead, he felt nausea taking over, bile bitter on his tongue.

He realized that with the adrenaline dying down in his system, his body was out to get revenge on him for being pushed beyond its limits.

Shit.

In a last ditch attempt to keep his dignity intact, Gavin pressed a hand to his mouth, willing the contents of his stomach to stay the fuck inside. He could already feel himself failing, acid biting at the back of his throat.

No, please no.

“Detective?”

Even the suspect was staring now, ceasing her efforts to escape.

He tried to control his breathing, fighting against the urge to just give in and get it over with. And for a second, Gavin thought he was gonna be just fine, with the first wave of nausea subsiding. Until the second wave hit him like a punch to the gut.

It was all he could do to bend over against the wall next to him, so he didn’t just empty his stomach all over himself or, even worse, Connor and the suspect.

It was painful, disgusting, humiliating. Gavin was heaving and panting. There were tears in his eyes from the cramps and the vile taste in his mouth and the horrible, sour smell that made everything even worse. Fuck.

What was he doing, in front of others, in front of his damned, smug as hell coworker, for fuck’s sake?

He was vaguely aware of Connor leaving in the middle of it all to take the suspect away, and he was grateful for not being on display anymore. Still, his face was burning from the shame of losing control over his body like that, as well as the fever.

He kept vomiting, spitting out whatever his body forced him to, until there was nothing left inside of him, except for the saliva in his mouth.

Shit, was he drooling? Bet your ass he was. He ran the sleeve of his shirt across his mouth, wincing as his stomach kept rebelling despite how empty it was now.

What next? His legs were unsteady as he stepped away from the wall, away from the disgusting sight and smell. If only stepping away from the memory of it all were that easy.

“Fuck,” me muttered, watching the edges of his world go dim.

Would he even make it back to the car like this? Was it a good idea to drive? He rarely regretted not having one of those fancy self-driving cars. Now was one of those occasions.

Maybe a cab then, but leaving his beloved car behind in a crime-filled area overnight sounded like a recipe for disaster.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention towards the entrance of the alleyway. Lo and behold, the plastic prick was back, daring to look at Gavin with fucking pity in his eyes.

God, he had to be a pathetic piece of trash to make a machine feel sorry for him.

“What do you want?” he asked, no strength left in him to even put any heat into his words.

“I wanted to inform you that I handed the suspect over to a patrol and I contacted Captain Fowler to tell him you aren’t feeling well enough to work.”

He had what?

“Fuck you, I’m fine.”

Connor didn’t even grace Gavin’s obvious bullshit with a response. The skeptical look he gave him said it all.

“Captain Fowler asked me to tell you not to come in again until you are back to full health. He doesn’t need the whole department getting sick as well, thanks to your stupidity. His words.”

Gavin groaned.

“Fucking great.”

“I think it is a reasonable request,” Connor stated. “We don’t have enough androids in the force to compensate for too many human officers falling ill.”

“I get it, okay? Get lost, I’m gonna head home now.”

Gavin took a tentative step, swaying a bit on his feet. Fucking amazing. Connor watched him waddle off for a few seconds before he sighed, catching up and offering his arm.

“Come on, I’ll get you to your car.”

The hell?

“I’m not your prom date and I’m not some weak damsel either, I can walk by myself.”

Cue Gavin stumbling before even finishing the sentence, almost falling flat on his face if not for Connor’s intervention. The universe really had it out for him. Fuck everything.

“Clearly you can’t,” the plastic detective stated simply, effectively shutting Gavin up.

Very begrudgingly, he took Connor’s arm after all, finding himself leaning on the android for support way more than he would ever admit. He just really hoped there was nobody around who knew him or he might have to murder any eyewitnesses once he was better.

They reached the car relatively soon, even with the slow pace they were walking at, but when Gavin tried reaching for his keys, they weren't there.

He hadn't lost them during his wild goose chase, had he?

Shit. Why today of all days?

He was ready to enter panic mode when he heard a familiar jiggling sound.

Connor had walked up to the driver's side of Gavin's car and was now holding up the keys triumphantly.

Huh?

When had he ...? How?

"Get in, Detective. I'm going to drive you home."

"The fuck you are! Give me back my keys, I can take care of myself!"

Gavin tried his best to get his keys back, he really did. How the hell he ended up falling against the side of his car, held up by Connor by the hood of his shirt like a freaking wet cat, he had no idea. He was getting progressively more dizzy and he was barely able to see anymore. Yeah, well, maybe driving wasn't such a good idea after all.

"I think that settles it," Connor said matter-of-factly. "Please get in the car and tell me your home address."

"Shit," he grumbled, shuffling off to the passenger's side - with Connor's help. "I give up."

Fuck his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! That wasn't much of a hiatus, was it? Well. I have even finished chapter two of Glaring Red by now (part 2 of Electric Blue), I'm just not gonna post it yet, because I need to go over things and I want to at least reach chapter four before I upload anything.  
> And then this little idea here came along. It just wouldn't stop bugging me until I got to work. Working on it really did me good. I found out that not writing is slowly but surely driving me insane. I didn't write for about a year before I started working on Electric Blue and looking back, that didn't help with my well-being in the slightest. I will do it more slowly, however. Overdoing it isn't gonna help anyone.


	2. I owe you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a thing for Connor taking care of Gavin in some way. Can't have a single story without it, it seems. It's just so ... wholesome.

“Don’t you dare fuck up my gears,” Detective Reed grumbled, sinking into the passenger’s seat with a groan.” Do you even know how to drive cars with manual transmission? Do you even know how to drive, period?”

Connor simply turned the keys in the ignition, putting the car into the first gear and lightly lifting his foot from the clutch to roll gently off the curb and onto the road. He was very aware of the Detective’s scrutinizing gaze on him as he sped up, slipping smoothly into traffic without any incident.

“Huh. Why the fuck would they program you with the ability to drive?”

“To give me any possible advantage in an investigation, for example if I were in need of following a suspect or escaping a situation that might endanger the success of the mission,” Connor explained, keeping his eyes on the road. “I can drive just about any vehicle. Cars, trucks, even buses.”

Gavin let out a short whistle at that.

“Damn. They put a lot of thought into the ifs and maybes, didn’t they? I would be impressed if you had been taught. Programming shit is just a lazy shortcut.”

Connor did his best not to flinch at those words. He'd spent countless hours doubting himself, his programming, how much of it was really him and how much was what others had wanted him to be. 

Right now, he was feeling that doubt creeping back in, but he pushed it down. 

"My programming when it comes to ordinary skills is not much different from natural abilities some people have. Just faster and more efficient. And quite useful right now, wouldn't you agree?" 

"What, are you comparing yourself to, like, natural born geniuses?" Gavin asked, a strain in his voice, like talking was exhausting. "I don't care either way. I hate them, too."

Shooting him a glance from the corner of his eye, Connor noticed that the man wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was leaning back with his forehead against the window and his eyes closed. The hair on the back of his neck was dark and wet with sweat.

"Geniuses," Gavin muttered, clamping his already closed eyes shut even harder. "They don't get how hard normal people have to work for everything. They get all the glory for putting in a fraction of the effort. Fuck them."

His words were full of bitterness, but faint. Like he wasn't speaking to Connor at all. Was the fever confusing him into voicing his thoughts out loud?

“Detective, you don’t look too well. Would you like me to drive you to a doctor rather than home?”

Gavin shook his head weakly.

“No fucking way. It’s a cold, no reason to get dramatic about it.”

Unsure whether he should accept this request, Connor paused a moment before replying.

“If you say so ...”

Seeing how stubborn the Detective usually was, there was likely no point in arguing. He reminded him of Hank in that way. They were so different, yet somehow very much alike.

Still, Connor was worried. Gavin's face was flushed and his breathing labored. This really wasn't good, his condition seemed to have worsened since they had left the alley. 

Not life threatening, so Connor would honor his wish of not being brought to the doctor. But he would keep an eye on him, take matters into his own hands if needed.

He focused on the road again, occasionally glancing at Gavin to make sure he was still with him and not passed out due to the fever. 

The Detective was silent now, his breathing deep, but irregular. Not sleeping. His guard was still up, his posture defensive, muscles tense. 

Connor picked up on shivers and suppressed coughs. He also took notice of the slowly rising temperature.

As he pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex in a desolate neighborhood, the address Detective Reed had supplied, his scanners read 104°F. Right on the edge of a high fever, but not serious enough to warrant forcing Gavin to seek medical attention. Yet. 

He could still try asking nicely.

"Detective."

Gavin groaned, eyes fluttering open.

"Are we there?"

"Yes," Connor said. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you to a doctor? Your condition worries me."

Gavin didn't even reply to that, he simply pushed the car door open, climbing out of the passenger's seat, desperately trying not to show how much effort it took. Stubborn as well as prideful. Another aspect in which he was like Hank.

So Connor did what he would have done for Hank under similar circumstances. He got out of the car, making sure to lock it first, and walked around to Gavin's side, wordlessly offering support. 

Thankfully, this time around the Detective didn't refuse the help. It was obvious how badly he was doing if he didn't even attempt to walk on his own. 

As they made their way into the building and up the stairs, slowly, carefully, not speaking, barely looking at each other, Connor could feel the heat of Gavin's body radiating off of him like a furnace. That couldn't possibly be good. His temperature had also gone up slightly since his last scan. 104.3°C

"Can I ask you a personal question, Detective?"

Gavin let out an annoyed grunt at that. "What?"

"Do you live alone?"

"Huh? Why on earth would you care about that?"

Connor wasn't sure how well Gavin would take it, but he decided to be honest in his answer. He couldn't think of a convincing lie either way.

"I'm not comfortable with leaving you alone like this. You have a fever and your condition has been deteriorating since we met in that alley."

There was a moment of tense silence between them following Connor's words. 

"Mind your own fucking business, tin can."

Connor shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but this is my business. I can't look away and pretend I didn't notice you are unwell."

Gavin simply scoffed at that, avoiding Connor's eyes as he spoke, focusing on the movement of his own feet instead.

"Why the fuck not? Everyone else does ..."

The last part was uttered so softly, Connor almost didn't hear it. Something about it made Connor's chest feel strangely tight.  
Like he was sorry for the Detective. A man who hated him, he had to remind himself.  
Yet also a man who had made it possible for him to take care of Hank a few weeks ago, without any distractions on his mind.  
Maybe this was his chance to repay him for his rare display of kindness.

They remained silent when they entered the apartment, wordlessly making their way to a room that turned out to be Detective Reed's bedroom. There wasn't much to see, apart from the bed and the usual furniture. It was neat and tidy and ... very empty. It didn't look like someone actually lived here. How odd.

Connor didn't mention this to Gavin, simply helping him settle down on the bed before standing by awkwardly as he watched the man fumble with his sneakers.

"Do you ... need a hand?"

If looks could kill, Connor would have experienced an irreversible critical error right now. 

"Fuck off."

So he remained where he was, looking on with a slight frown as Gavin struggled to get out of his shoes and then shrug off his jacket. The man was shaking like a leaf by now.

"Quit staring," he muttered, looking embarrassed by the state he was in. 

Connor didn't understand why, as it wasn't his fault, just a normal physical reaction to contracting a disease, most likely a virus. Then again, he wasn't human and if living with Hank had taught him anything, it was that humans didn't like showing their perceived weaknesses. So he turned away, clearing his throat as he did so.

"Sorry, Detective. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No," Gavin said, harshly, before pausing. "Or ... could you get me an ibuprofen from the medical cabinet? In the bathroom. Only door across from here, can't miss it. I don't need water, I can swallow it dry."

"Of course."

Connor left the bedroom to head for the bathroom, very much intent on getting Detective Reed some water as well regardless. Staying hydrated when ill was very important.

He quickly found the medication Gavin had asked for. As it turned out, even his bathroom was overly empty and orderly, an assortment of first aid supplies, tonics and pills neatly stacked inside the cabinet. He couldn't help but notice that the over the counter sleeping pills and painkillers especially seemed to be used regularly, as the packaging was worn and the weight suggested that not a lot of the content was left at this point.

Connor's frown deepened, as did his feeling of worry, but for now, he focused on making sure Gavin was comfortable. 

The package of Ibuprofen in hand, he went on to search for the kitchen. He found it on the first try, behind the door at the end of the hallway, right next to the bathroom.  
It was small, but as empty as the other rooms. The usual furniture, a microwave, a coffee machine, nothing else, except for shelf dedicated to several kinds of tea. 

An idea crossed Connor's mind. Maybe ... 

He took a look around, getting a mug from one of the cupboards. Since he couldn't find a kettle, he filled the mug with water and put it in the microwave.

When he returned to the bedroom a few minutes later, a hot herbal tea, bottled water from the fridge and the requested medication in hand, he was surprised to find Gavin fast asleep. The Detective had managed to put on a simple cotton shirt and some shorts before drifting off, only halfway covered by the blanket.

As silently as he could, Connor set down the items he was holding, gently tugging the blanket in place, intent on letting him rest. That was, until Gavin turned unexpectedly, his shoulder brushing against Connor's hand. 

With a jolt, Gavin was awake again, gasping, looking terrified until his eyes settled on Connor, who was still frozen in place.

"Shit. Shit! What the fuck are you doing?"

Connor backed away, raising his hands reflexively, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have, even though he hadn't. 

"I'm sorry, Detective," he said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you. I brought you the medication you asked for. And some tea."

Gavin's reaction to his last words was ... odd. His eyes widened and he looked over at the nightstand, instantly fixated on the steaming cup of tea. 

"What? Why would you do that?"

Confused, Connor cocked his head to the side.

"Do you not like tea? I thought -"

"No!" Gavin interrupted him, almost shouting. He looked surprised by his own outburst, his already flushed cheeks turning a deeper color, ears glowing bright red. "No, that's not it. I mean. Why would you bring me tea?"

This didn't really help Connor's confusion. 

"I don't understand," he said. "You aren't feeling well. I thought a cup of tea might help with that, as a sort of home remedy. You don't have to drink it if you don't want to."

Wasn't bringing a sick person tea something common among humans? The look on Gavin's face suggested otherwise. He was still staring at the mug like he had never even heard of the concept.

Then, ever so slowly, almost tentatively, he took it, cradling the mug in his hands. There was a flicker in his eyes, something Connor couldn't read. It was gone as quickly as it had come. When Gavin looked up at Connor, he seemed a lot less on edge. He wasn't smiling, not quite, but his expression was different from before. Warmer.

"I ... Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," Connor said. He could feel himself practically beaming at Gavin, feeling accomplished for some reason. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Gavin seemed to honestly think about it, all pretense of not needing help long forgotten. He didn't even seem to remember that he was supposed to hate Connor.

"No. You can go home or back to work or whatever."

Connor nodded. "Alright. Don't forget to take the medicine. And please consider going to the doctor if you start feeling worse."

"Yeah, yeah."

He was about to leave when Gavin spoke up again, grumbling a bit.

"Damn. Now I fucking owe you."

Connor wanted to tell him it was fine and not to worry about it, but something about the look on Gavin's face, the way his brows were furrowed in contemplation, caused him to simply nod and smile.

"See you at work – once you are better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I based Gavin's apartment off of my own. It's even worse in Electric Blue, what with the white tiles everywhere (I just got rid of the white walls, opting for a lot of soft gray and blue-green and red). It's a lot more orderly than my place. For one thing, I have loads of personal items, pictures I took or painted, (fan)arts from conventions, trinkets, decorative objects. I am also really fucking messy when I'm not doing well, which is pretty often. Working on it. It's gotten way better than before.


	3. We are even

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got out of hand. It's long, it has stuff happening I didn't plan for, I had to restructure the following chapters completely, and it was just emotionally taxing and I ... well, I'm just gonna leave you to it.

Going back to work was something Gavin had dreaded with every fiber of his being.

He only had vague memories of what had happened at his apartment, but he was convinced he must have made a fool of himself - and that Connor must have told the entire unit by now what a pathetic piece of garbage he was to get choked up over a fucking cup of tea.

Just because nobody had done anything like that for him before. Jeez, what was he, twelve?

That was why he was more than surprised when he entered and barely anyone did as much as spare him a fleeting glance. Seemed like everyone still didn't give a shit about him, which he was fine with. That feeling was mutual. He supposed that Connor must have kept silent then.

Everything would stay the same as before. Right? Except he had no idea how to react to Connor - or how Connor would react to him.

Fuck, why did he have to go and be miserable and weak in front of him of all people?

He tried his best not to think about that for now, hoping he would be able to just ignore the android. Yeah, somehow he had the feeling that was not gonna happen. Either because Connor would approach him first or because Gavin would prove to be even more of an idiot and actually talk to him. Great.

Making his way over to his desk, he noticed two things out of the ordinary.

One, Fowler's office was deserted, which was more than rare, and two, Anderson was absent as well. A lot less odd, since the old man had a knack for getting sick often.

Turns out alcohol abuse damages the immune system, who would have thought?

He did spot the source of his internal struggle, however, standing next to two rookies, stiff as a board, LED spinning yellow. Even from across the entire room, he could hear the loud, abrasive words of one of the guys, a tall, broad dude with jet black hair - Gavin hadn't bothered to learn any of the new hires' names yet.

"Fuck off, android. No way in hell."

Huh. That sounded like trouble. None of his business, he didn't do drama. He didn't do anything social in regards to the office environment, period. The notable exception being his casual friendship with Chris and Tina.

So why the fuck was he walking over there, listening intently to the unfolding train wreck of a conversation?

"Please, I implore you. I don't have clearance to investigate on my own yet. I need a field partner as long as Lieutenant Anderson is at the conference."

Now that was something Gavin hadn't even known about. Since when did Hank go anywhere without his shadow?

And why the hell would Connor be barred from going out on his own? He was a Detective, like Gavin, and Gavin had never run into a problem like that before, even with his … spotty disciplinary record.

Why would the perfect little machine -

Oh. Of course. Androids had more severe regulations.

Now that was some bullshit right there.

Wait, what? What was he thinking? Since when was he all pro android worker rights?

"And you damn well shouldn't be allowed in the field. At all. Even with a handler. You are a faulty machine, nothing else."

Shit. Why was it uncomfortable to hear something like that all of a sudden? He'd spouted very similar sentiments not so long ago. But Jesus Christ, if looking at Connor's crestfallen expression and the flash of red on his temple didn't make Gavin's sorry excuse for a soul hurt …

"I am a member of the police force," Connor stated, and fuck, was his voice unsteady? No, that had to be Gavin's imagination. "I was granted my position on my own merits, for what I contribute to the department. And I do not have a handler, I have a partner."

"Whatever he is, he's not here and neither should you be."

Stay out of it, Gavin, stay out of it, stay -

"Whatever the fuck is going on here?"

So much for listening to his own advice.

Connor's expression changed instantly from worry and indignation to a soft smile.

"Detective Reed! Are you feeling better already?"

"Already? I was out for a week. That is about seven days more than enough."

"Wait, you are Reed?" the tall rookie asked, staring at Gavin intently.

The other one was slowly slinking away by now, clearly not very keen on making a scene in front of a long term member of the force. Smart kid. The tall one not so much, as he was scowling now, getting into Gavin's personal space.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

"No shit, genius," Gavin said, keeping a very measured level of boredom in his voice. "And I'm obviously not talking to you, I was asking Connor a question."

"Aren't you supposed to be on our side? I thought you hated those fucking things, too."

Gavin didn't even grace him with a reply, instead pointedly ignoring him in favor of addressing Connor, who looked equal parts curious and surprised at what was unfolding in front of him.

"So. Care to tell me what's going on?"

It didn't even take a second for Connor to get all professional again, like the rookie wasn't busy glaring daggers at both Gavin and him.

"Right, of course. I have received urgent information about the location of a suspect, I need to act quickly to have a chance of catching him."

"And you can't go on your own," Gavin concluded, "I got that much."

Connor nodded, glowering at the rookie as he did so, his tone getting more than a little passive-aggressive.

"It seems I am unable to find a suitable field partner for this. One who is willing to do their actual job."

Hearing this, the rookie turned a nice, intense shade of red, embarrassed and angry by being indirectly called out - and by Connor no less, an android he clearly had no respect for.

It would have been entertaining to watch, if not for the rookie unexpectedly lunging at Connor, trying to punch him in the face.

His fist never connected, caught mid air by Connor, who now held it in place with an iron grip and without showing any signs of this being in any way taxing on him. His face remained a cold, unbothered mask as he pretended not to take note of the rookie struggling against him and cursing loudly.

"I suggest you take your break early, Officer," Connor stated, his voice quiet and even, yet undeniably threatening. It sent a chill down Gavin's spine. "You just slipped. It almost looked like you were trying to use violence against me. Now that couldn't have possibly been your intent, could it? You are not that stupid."

The rookie was no longer just red faced, he was near purple, eyes bulging, furious and terrified at the same time. And yeah, Gavin kind of knew what it was like to be effortlessly overpowered by Connor. He almost felt bad for the kid. Almost.

There was also the uncomfortable, uncanny feeling of being a witness to a situation he himself could have been in not so long ago.

Granted, he wasn't as dumb as the rookie, far from it - he'd never once tried blatantly shooting down or attacking Connor in a way that could have been detrimental to his own career, at least not since the implementation of android work laws.

Yet this was the first time in … ever, really, that he'd actively taken Connor's side in an argument. Instead of quietly and begrudgingly agreeing with his points and then staying the fuck out of it.

"You worthless piece of trash," the rookie snarled, pulling his arm away - a move only made possible by Connor letting go of him with a huff and a disapproving head shake.

Holy shit, that android had perfected the art of understated, unspoken 'Fuck yous'.

"You can act high and mighty all you want, but you don't belong here. You'll never belong here."

Connor didn't acknowledge the guy's words, keeping his expression neutral. But Gavin could see the LED on his temple turning red for a split second before returning to a troubled yellow.

And the rookie had obviously seen it as well, a cold smile crossing his face.

"That's right. Get lost, nobody's gonna help you out. Or actually, go do something useful. That's what you were created for after all, to serve. I could really use a coffee right now."

Gavin actually flinched at those words, drawing a curious look from Connor.

Fuck, this was awful. Had he been like that? He knew the answer, but he didn't want to think about it, so he swallowed those thoughts for now and shook his head before opening his mouth.

What was he doing?

"Actually, about that investigation," he said, ignoring the heated glare the rookie was giving him, a silent warning to not dig his own grave. "We should probably get going. We've wasted enough time already."

He turned, not even sparing the other guy a glance, praying that Connor would just get the hint and follow him.

He did, swiftly catching up to Gavin, an odd mix of emotions apparent on his face. His LED was spinning yellow.

"What are you doing, Detective?"

"Helping you out is what I'm doing, dipshit," Gavin said, or more accurately grumbled, refusing to look at Connor. "Now where do we need to go?"

"Inner city. I'll provide you with the details in the car," Connor replied, a lot calmer already. "I am very grateful for your help, Detective."

Gavin shrugged, pulling his head between his shoulders a little while walking and sneaking a glance at him from the corner of his eye.

"I'm not exactly doing this because I want to. I owe you still. And I just hate being indebted to someone."

Connor didn't seem put off or offended by his words at all. He simply nodded with a smile.

"Regardless of that, I need to thank you. For what happened earlier as well. You didn't need to insert yourself into the situation and you still stepped up to support me. It means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it."

Shit, what was he doing? If he kept going like this, Connor would inevitable get the wrong impression and think Gavin didn't hate him anymore.

… Did he hate him?

He looked over at Connor, who was still smiling at him with these honest, open doe eyes of his. His LED was slowly blinking a soft, calm blue. Not at all on edge around him, not like before.

That was when he realized he didn't hate Connor. He hadn't done so in a long ass time. Fuck, he would have cut off his right hand before going out of his way to help someone he hated. And he had helped Connor twice now.

Probably more than that in smaller ways whenever they had been forced to work together in the past. He hadn't even noticed until now.

Didn't mean he liked him or anything. Shit, this was embarrassing.

Trying to hide how hot and probably deep red his ears were getting, Gavin raised his shoulders even further, crossing his arms.

"Once this is over, we are so fucking even."

Connor simply nodded again.

"Alright."

 

\---

 

The car ride was weird.

It was awkward and silent and he was so fucking aware of Connor next to him, it was seriously tense and distracting.

He wanted to break the silence between them because it bothered him, even though Connor looked totally neutral and unaffected by the atmosphere, watching the world outside of the car window, all calm and disinterested.

Problem was, Gavin had no clue what to talk about. The weather? Work? The incident last week? No, no, no, definitely not that.

"So," he said, after settling on a topic that seemed mildly interesting without being mindless smalltalk. "Where's your other half?"

Connor turned towards him with face of utter confusion. "I don't understand. My body is complete and fully functional."

A snort escaped Gavin before he could hide it.

"No, dumbass. I mean, where's Anderson? I think you said something about a conference?"

"Oh! Yes, he's accompanying Captain Fowler to a conference on android workers in the police and the public sector and the challenges they face, to potentially change legislation and facilitate equal treatment in the workplace."

_So something like earlier today doesn't happen again_ , Gavin thought, frowning slightly. "That doesn't make any sense."

For some reason, Connor leveled him with an almost disappointed look before staring out of the window again, purposefully avoiding Gavin's questioning gaze.

"I assure you, Detective, it makes perfect sense to work on granting androids equal rights and opportunities. I wouldn't have had to inconvenience you by asking you to partner up on this investigation if I had clearance to go out alone."

What? Oh.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that!" Gavin was quick to clear up the misunderstanding, not sure why it was all of a sudden so important to him what Connor thought of him.

Just what in the world was he doing? Had the fever killed a few of his braincells or something?

He stopped mulling over why he was behaving the way he was when he saw Connor relaxing again, turning to face Gavin.

"Then what did you mean?"

"I just meant," Gavin said, flustered, stumbling over his own words like an idiot, "it doesn't make sense that you are here. Instead of at the conference, you know?"

"I was informed Hank's - Lieutenant Anderson's testimony would be sufficient, in addition to the Captain's."

Connor seemed totally unbothered by what he had just said, but Gavin couldn't help but scowl a that.

"Bullshit," he said without thinking, causing Connor to stare at him in some sort of … fascination?

Gavin had to force himself to concentrate on the road. He felt like otherwise, he would die of embarrassment on the spot.

"I get why Anderson is there, he works with you, so he knows what that's like. But wouldn't it be better for you to go along as well? I mean, this conference is about you and your … people. Who knows better what works and what doesn't for you than, well, you? You should have gone with."

There was a moment of contemplative silence following his words. Gavin almost thought he must have said something wrong.

"I wasn't invited. None of the DPD androids were," Connor finally explained. "According to the current legislation, that means I wouldn't have been able to enter the conference even if I had gone with the Captain and Hank."

Gavin shot Connor a sidelong glance, noticing his LED flickering yellow for a moment before it returned to its calm blue.

So it did bother him. Fuck, it even bothered Gavin and he wasn't entirely convinced working with androids was a good idea in the first place.

"Like I said. Bullshit. They're gonna need more than that conference if they can't even figure out that much."

He sighed, hoping he didn't come off as awkward as he knew had to be. He was way out of his depth on this topic.

"Oh, and by the way. Let me make something clear. You didn't ask me to come with you. I offered to come along myself. Didn't have anything better to do, anyway. It's not like I would have come otherwise."

There was another brief moment of silence. And suddenly, Connor was laughing. It was unexpected enough to startle Gavin, despite how soft and quiet it was. It sounded completely natural, completely _human_.

"Thank you, Detective. I appreciate your help. As well as you standing up for me today. You are very kind to me."

"Fuck you, I'm not kind at all!"

"Alright, Detective. Let's agree to disagree."

Gavin didn't know how to respond to that.

 

\---

 

"You sure this is the place?"

It was kind of hard to believe Connor was gonna find his suspect here, at a fucking luxury hotel in the heart of Detroit. Then again, being rich didn't mean shit when it came to committing crimes. Humans were flawed and often disgusting, no matter the background.

"I am positive he checked in here about two hours ago. I got tipped off by the android working at the front desk. We had his picture contributed to the media, especially android networks."

Huh. Now that was a tactic Gavin hadn't made use of yet in his own cases. It made sense that androids would be able to match facial features better than most humans could, so they were valuable witnesses. He should try that sometime.

"Let's head inside," Connor said. "I already have an arrest warrant on him as well as the cooperation of the hotel. They were kind enough to provide me with his room number."

Impressively efficient ...

"How did you pull that off so quickly?"

Connor gave him a smile, the kind Gavin would have labeled 'smug' a few days ago. Now, it seemed merely confident to him.

"Connections to the hotel staff, mostly."

Interesting.

They entered the hotel, briefly making eye-contact with the receptionist, a blue haired android woman. She pointed towards the elevators, nodding at the both of them, though probably more at Connor than at him. She smiled a short, very odd smile before returning to her duties.

"Friend of yours?"

"In a way," Connor said, not expanding on that explanation.

The expression on his face was somewhat somber, surprisingly, suggesting there was more to the story he wasn't keen on talking about.

Gavin wanted nothing more than to figure out what Connor was thinking, but he held back. Now wasn't the time to go and pry the dirty secrets out of his android coworker. Maybe later.

They made their way across the lobby, a very spacious, largely empty room with a high ceiling and silvery chandeliers. They looked more like abstract art pieces than actual light fixtures, making them fit in perfectly with the rest of the hotel.

The place was modern, slick, with black marble floors, lots of chrome and glass and steel. Ah, yes, the stink of money was inescapable in here. He hated it with a passion already.

Gavin was aware that he had to stick out like a sore thumb with his battered (fucking awesome, shut up) leather jacket, sneakers and washed out jeans. Not to mention how he was walking; slightly hunched over with his hands shoved into his pockets.

He could feel the guests they were passing staring at him, judging him. They could go right ahead and fuck off.

Connor on the other hand looked right at home, with his hair slicked back, except for a disobedient strand on his forehead, dressed up all elegantly in a dark gray suit and tie, with a light powder blue dress shirt underneath. The stares of the people around them didn't seem to bother him at all.

He was poised, there were no two ways about that.

Come to think of it, his appearance hadn’t changed all that much from his android uniform days. Yet somehow, without his LED, Gavin never would have guessed what he was.

Was it weird that he had never quite recognized that before or was it even weirder that he was doing it right fucking now?

“So what did this guy do in the first place?” Gavin asked to gain more information about what to expect, but also to distract himself from his thoughts.

“The suspect, Jonathan Franklin, is likely involved in a case of android trafficking. Our prime witness escaped an auction attended by this man in a seat of honor, front row, suggesting that he might be the one behind it. The witness had to receive emergency repairs immediately or he would have died from his injuries.”

"Shit," Gavin mumbled. "What did they do to him?"

"He told us about both physical and sexual abuse. The damages were mostly from the physical violence used against him as they caught him in his attempt to escape. His body was badly damaged from getting struck with a heavy object repeatedly. And his face had been destroyed, using knifes and screwdrivers. He got away at the last moment."

Gavin had to suppress a shiver at the thought of the violence, images of blood and bruised and broken skin resurfacing in his mind.

“That’s disgusting.”

“It is disgusting and cruel,” Connor agreed. “That’s why I needed to get here fast, so I can arrest him, bring him to justice.”

Gavin nodded, clenching his hands into fists so tightly, it hurt. He didn't care about that, the pain was even grounding, in a way. It helped to keep his thoughts and memories at bay.

“Glad to be of service, then. I fucking hate abusive assholes.”

He did pick up on the slight tremor in his voice and he just knew that Connor must have noticed as well. Thankfully, he didn't mention it at all. Gavin wasn't sure how he would have reacted to it being brought up. Not well, probably. And he needed to concentrate, he was on the fucking job.

They both remained silent for the rest of the way.

 

\---

 

Gavin looked over at Connor, waiting until he gave a nod in response before firmly knocking on the door.

"Room service."

There was the sound of shuffling from behind the door and then it opened slightly crack, revealing a bland face. A manager type guy, around fifty, with salt and pepper hair, clean shaven and surprisingly fit. Gavin made a mental note not to underestimate his fighting strength.

Still, he wasn't exactly what Gavin would have expected as the mastermind behind a crime like this.

Yet another example of never judging a book by its cover.

He knew from personal experience that the plain ones could be the worst offenders, and they were the ones who rarely got reported. The nice guys next door, always polite to others. Not letting on what went on behind closed doors. He clenched his fists hard, to stop his hands from shaking. Fuck them all.

The guy was frowning at Gavin, studying him. There was something about his eyes that made the hair on Gavin's neck stand up. Something sinister and dark, despite the light gray of his irises.

The same color, Gavin thought before he could bury the observation deep, deep inside of him. It was no use, he was already spiraling off the edge.

No going back no. He would have to push it down until he got home.

Franklin's frown vanished, replaced by something akin to apprehension. When he turned his head to face Connor, there was a twitch in his jaw. His eyes locked onto Connor's LED and Gavin had to suppress the urge to step in between the two of them.

This man was setting him off in all the worst ways.

He had the fleeting feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

"You're not room service. Who are you?"

"Are you Mr Jonathan Franklin?" Connor asked, subtly moving in a way so he could intervene, in case Franklin was planning on slamming the door shut again.

"Yes, that's me."

His voice was like silk, smooth and cold.

"Detroit police. My name is Connor and this is my colleague Detective Reed. We would like to talk to you."

Franklin actually managed to pull of a smile. Fake and as cold as his voice, but so far not hostile, as far as Gavin could tell.

Yeah, he didn't trust the peace.

"Oh, of course. Please come in."

Gavin was a bit taken aback by how easily the guy complied with them, opening the door to his hotel room wide and gesturing for them to enter. He seemed oddly at ease, something Gavin didn't like at all.

Connor gave him a short nod, an unspoken warning to be cautious regardless of the man's demure behavior, one which Gavin was more than willing to heed. He didn't trust this guy.

He was too similar to _that man_ , he realized, the same fake politeness in his gestures and voice, the same inconspicuous looks. The same eyes.

They stepped inside and the door fell shut behind them. Immediately, Gavin was beginning to feel trapped, with his fight or flight instinct kicking in. He had to bite his lip, painfully, to keep himself calm.

He thought he heard the sound of a key being turned, but when he blinked, Franklin was already halfway across the room, next to the couch.

An auditory memory then. He was slipping - and fast. Shit. Nothing had even happened yet.

He made his way over to the suspect, sitting down on the couch when he was invited to. Every passing second he was becoming more aware of his body reacting to the surging anxiety inside of him, his heart hammering in his chest, sweat clinging to the back of his neck.

Still, when he took a seat, he slipped into his well practiced appearance of calmness, casually leaning back and observing.

He thought he felt Connor's eyes on him, but when he turned towards him, Connor was intently studying the suspect, no doubt busy analyzing every little detail, every hint of him hiding something.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Franklin asked, smiling.

"No, thanks."

Yeah, as if Gavin was gonna touch anything this guy handed to him. And to his knowledge, Connor didn't need to drink in the first place.

Franklin barely reacted to Gavin's refusal, half shrugging.

"How can I help you, Detectives?"

Connor didn't waste any time before getting to the point. He almost seemed rushed. Had he noticed something going on with Gavin? Well, fuck, of course he must have.

"Mr Franklin, where were you on September 21, between 10 and 11 p.m.?"

Putting the tips of his fingers together, Franklin looked at Connor first and then at Gavin with a scrutinizing gaze. His face had gotten a bit pale and his smile was more fake than ever.

"Hm, I don't recall. Why do you ask?"

"You are under suspicion of being involved in anti android crimes. We have reliable witness testimony, but we would like to hear your side of the story."

"Is that so?" Gone was all pretense of pleasantries, replaced by an adverse scowl for a moment, until his face turned into a vacuous mask, hiding his emotions.

"We would like to talk to you at the precinct, if that's alright with you. We have an arrest warrant, but I am sure you would much rather come with us willingly."

"So we don't cause a scene, I understand. No need for any warrants, I will leave this room willingly."

Something about how absolutely calm and collected Franklin was, despite just being accused of a crime, gave Gavin all kinds of red flags. Connor meanwhile looked as polite as before, standing up and gesturing for Franklin to do the same, not letting on what he was thinking at all.

"My colleague will go in front as we leave, while I will follow the both of you," Connor said, actually smiling ever so slightly at Franklin. It was entirely different from the smiles Gavin had received from him. A veil to hide his intentions more than anything. "It's just a precaution. That way we can forgo restraints, as you are willing to cooperate."

Franklin simply nodded, standing up as Gavin did before gesturing to the back of the room.

"May I take my coat? My personal documents are in there and you might need them, right?"

"Of course," Connor said curtly.

For a reason Gavin couldn't pinpoint, his initial instinct was to refuse the request. It was a non-sensical gut reaction, one that made his heart skip a beat. He could sense more than see Connor turning towards him, concern obvious in his expression.

“Are you alright, Detective?”

His voice was a whisper, clearly meant not to let the suspect know something might be off.

Gavin shook his head, searching for Connor’s eyes, trying his damnedest to keep his fucking anxiety at bay. He was working, he had to be functional. His irrational breakdowns were supposed to be an at home thing, when nobody could see him freak out over nothing.

He took a deep breath, forcing as much of the tension from his body as he could.

“I don’t trust him,” he said, quietly. “Keep your eyes on him.”

“I will. I promise.”

Connor was actually reaching out for him, firmly placing a hand on his shoulder. It was a reassuring gesture, but the feeling of dread didn’t leave Gavin at all; especially not once Franklin joined them again, his jacket casually draped over his arm now.

If at all possible, he looked even less worried than before. How could someone be so relaxed when they essentially just got arrested?

“Shall we, Detectives?” Franklin asked.

Slick, unbothered. No edge to his words whatsoever. Meant to put them at ease, clearly. If anything, it made Gavin even more paranoid.

He really didn’t want to turn his back to the guy, but he had to for now, to lead him out of the room safely.

He glanced at Connor once again, nodding.

“Follow me.”

They made their way outside, switching from letting Gavin walk in front them to flanking the suspect as soon as they entered the hallway.

It was spacious enough in here and it minimized the risk of Gavin being caught off guard by an attack he couldn’t see. Everything seemed to go smoothly; Franklin still looked disturbingly calm next to them, but there was a slight tension to his steps now.

Then his cold eyes locked unto Gavin, the shadow of a smile flitting across his face.

It was enough to make Gavin fall slightly out of rhythm, which in turn drew Connor’s attention towards him instead of the suspect.

First mistake.

In one swift movement, Franklin dropped his jacket and spun around, a knife in one hand, a long, sharp object like a staff in the other. He lunged before either of them registered what was happening.

All Gavin could do was watch, frozen in shock, as the metal tip of the sharpened staff sank deep into the side of Connor’s neck.

Connor just … locked up, body stiff, eyes wide, breath hitching in his lungs. There was Thirium gushing from the wound already, even with the weapon still lodged in place.

Gavin could make out a rhythmic spray of blue, a vibration to the metal protruding from his skin. Like a heartbeat.

A main artificial vein.

Franklin made a move to reach for it, snapping Gavin out of his stunned stupor instantly.

If he pulled that thing out, Connor would bleed to death in no time at all.

“No!”

Without thinking, Gavin practically jumped the assailant, pushing him away from Connor while trying to grab the wrist that still held the knife.

He managed to knock Franklin down, the both of them crashing onto the floor in a mess of arms and legs, with Gavin just barely maintaining the upper hand and staying on top of him.

He did not, however, manage to restrain or disarm Franklin. There was no knife in hand he was pinning down, even though there had been before.

How the hell the bastard had managed to switch sides, passing the knife to his free, right hand mid fall, Gavin had no idea. He didn't even realize he had done it until it was too late.

Second mistake.

He heard the sound of ripping fabric and flesh being slashed open before the pain had time to catch up with him.

Once it did, it was all Gavin could do not to scream at the sensation of a blade being pushed into his abdomen, cutting through skin and muscle with force.

It slipped out again with a wet squishing sound, followed by liquid heat pouring out of the wound.

Only now did the agony kick in fully. Blinding, white. Making his vision go blank. Fire and ice all at once, like touching something so cold, it burned away the skin, only inside of his flesh.

He was tempted to let go of Franklin and curl in on himself, but he did the opposite, fighting through the pain to get a hold of both of his arms this time.

Gavin was barely able to keep him pinned to the ground, preventing Franklin from attacking again. He was aware of the constant stream of blood soaking his shirt, dripping down, too much, too quickly.

His head was swimming by now, thoughts slowing down, drifting by sluggishly. He couldn't see, everything he heard sounded like he was miles and miles under water.

When the pain stopped, he was relieved for a moment, until the reality of the situation caught up to him. This was bad.

He was on the fast road to losing consciousness, which meant he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. His strength was already slipping.

If he passed out, Franklin would be free. He was armed. Gavin was already possibly dying if he didn't get help, stat, and Connor was in grave danger as well.

Connor ...

Was he still frozen like that, with the staff pushed through his throat? Was he even still alive?

He had to keep trying, clinging to the faint hope that Connor had managed to call for backup somehow.

He had to fight.

So he did, until he couldn't anymore. Until there wasn't even a spark left in him.

He let go of Franklin, expecting to just collapse on top of him.

Yet he didn't. He didn't fall.

What was this odd sensation? Was he being held? He was disoriented, confused, unable to open his eyes. Or no ... his eyes were open. He just couldn't see.

As he sank deeper into the darkness, losing his grip on his consciousness, the last thing he heard was the buzzing of electricity, followed by a panicked voice calling his name.

"Gavin! Hold on, please. Help is on the way."

Oddly enough, he found himself smiling into the nothingness.

And like that, he was gone.


	4. All my fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! I'm back. I pulled a Gavin last night. For those of you who haven't read Electric Blue, Gavin does stuff like pass out in weird places due to exhaustion. And yeah. I did that. I fell asleep while sorting stuff on the ground. With my head leaning against an office chair - the kind that rolls. In a houshold with two very curious cats. It didn't end well.  
> Take a lesson from this. Don't be like Gavin.  
> That said, this is a Connor chapter again. I think I'll be doing one POV per chapter, until maybe both of their POVs in the last one. Not sure yet.  
> Warning: This chapter made me ANGRY. It contains racism against androids, unfair treatment and lots of self-doubt. ENJOY!

_Why would he smile?_

Connor didn’t know what to do with his hands. There was blood on them, fading blue Thirium and flaking, dried up human blood.

All he did was stare at his artificial skin, at the remnants of the violence left on it.

He was standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk in front of an android tech store, and he had no idea what actions to take next.

So he continued not to do anything. He had no plan, no direction.

He was partially aware of the looks he was getting, of people changing the sidewalk, just so they wouldn’t have to walk past the bloodstained, expressionless android just standing there, not moving.

He blinked and all he could see was Gavin springing into action as his own systems locked down, so his body wouldn’t dislodge the piercing object while his veins worked on redirecting the flow of Thirium.

The memory sent shivers down his spine. He had been right there. Unable to move, to do anything other than observe, screaming inside his own head.

Watching as Gavin and Jonathan Franklin fell to the floor. Witnessing the exact moment the blade pierced Gavin’s abdomen.

He must have been in pain, agony really. Yet he had kept fighting, holding Franklin down until Connor had managed to break out of his forcefully induced stasis.

Connor could barely recall taking out Franklin or the arrival of the ambulance or which of his colleagues had responded to his request for back up. His memory files were jumbled and compressed, almost beyond recognition.

He very much remembered the blood soaking Gavin’s shirt, light gray turning a dark, deep red. He remembered the feeling of it running over his hands, spilling through his fingers as he tried to apply pressure to the wound, to stop it from hemorrhaging.

He remembered Gavin’s eyes becoming vacant, his body going limp.

And he remembered the smile just before Gavin fell unconscious, this almost relieved expression on his face as he slipped away, right under Connor’s grasp.

_Why would he smile?_

Connor didn’t know what to do. He was fine, physically. His repairs were done. Veins and damaged parts replaced; the skin on his neck smooth and clean again. Not a trace left.

Except for the stains on his clothing and hands. He couldn’t take his eyes off of them.

The fractured memories kept replaying over and over again in his head, stuck on repeat. He felt stranded between the past and the present.

What should he do? It was the middle of the day still, barely past noon. All he wanted was to move on, be productive, and forget.  

It was impossible. He knew that.

He at least wanted some relief, some peace of mind. Some comfort.

_Hank_ , he thought, perking up a bit to a faint hope inside of him before dejection hit.

Hank probably didn’t have his phone on during the conference meetings, and those would continue into late afternoon. The thought of not being able to reach the one person he trusted more than anyone in the world was daunting. Should he try regardless?

He opened up his contact list, almost ready to engage the call function. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

What would he even say? His mind was a blank slate, despite being filled with a myriad of greetings and phrases. It may as well have been truly empty. None of those words meant anything to him now.

Even if they did … Would he be able speak at all? His throat felt tight, his jaw was clenched so tightly, it would have hurt, had he been able to feel pain.

He shook his head and started walking, passing through the busy streets of Detroit on this cold, bright day in early October.

When he finally stopped, he blinked in surprise at the tall, cube shaped building in front of him. The hospital Detective Reed had been brought to. According to his GPS logs, he had walked for over an hour towards this destination without realizing it.

What was he even doing here? He knew full well how unlikely it was for Gavin to already be out of the operating room, given his grave injury.

Come to think of it, he hadn't even run a scan on Gavin after taking out Franklin. Or if he had, the data was lost or unreadable now. Mistakes like this were unacceptable.

At this point, he didn't even know if Gavin's wound might be deadly. He could be dying right this moment – because of him.

His legs started to shake at the thought, pure dread and fear making it hard to even breathe.

Just what was wrong with him?

In between the incident at the station, where he had failed to convince any of his coworkers to go with him on his investigation, and his possibly deadly misstep in not noticing the suspect sneaking not one, but _two_ weapons out of his room, Connor wasn't sure if him being in the force was a good thing, like Hank insisted, or a bad thing after all.

What should he do?

Deviancy had always been hard on him. The more emotions he experienced, the less logical and precise his decisions became. But he had never been the cause of an injury in the field. Not to anyone but himself at least.

And now this. Now Gavin...

He was feeling more and more distressed, to the point where he couldn't stand not knowing anymore. He started walking towards the hospital, his legs carrying him forward on their own before his conscious mind had the opportunity to catch up.

Moving past the sliding glass doors, he made his way over to the reception, anxious and fidgety, very much aware of his stained clothes and bloody hands. What a sight he would be - but barely anyone was around. The few people gathered in the waiting area were preoccupied with their own issues, sparing him a short glance at most.

The woman at the desk was typing something at her computer, not even noticing him approaching.

"Hello," he said as politely as he could, mustering a strained smile. "Excuse me, but I would like to inquire after my colleague who was brought in two hours ago."

She turned to him with a friendly expression – one that faded as soon as her eyes fell on his LED. She didn't return his greeting or wait for him to specify who it was he was looking for.

"Tech department is down a few blocks from here. We only treat humans at the hospital."

Even her neutral tone of voice couldn't hide her distaste for Connor being here. Or her premature assumption that his colleague must be an android as well – because why would androids and humans associate themselves with each other?

"I assure you, this is the right place. My colleague is a human detective. Gavin Reed. He was brought in with a stab wound to the abdomen."

The woman frowned, shifting her glasses while leveling him with a condescending look.

"Didn't know they allowed androids back in the force."

That was all she said. She didn't provide him with any information or ask for ID. Connor was getting increasingly frustrated with her, but he did his best to remain outwardly calm as he produced his badge from his belt.

"Whether or not you have heard of it doesn't change the fact that there are several androids officially working for the DPD at this point. Myself included."

The receptionist gawked at him for his sarcastic tone before taking the badge, staring at it for a moment and then handing it back with a shake of her head.

"Patrol androids, I'd believe. Android detectives? Not so much," she said, refusing to look at Connor at all. "Wouldn't be the first time one of your kind had forged ID on them to go somewhere they shouldn't be."

At this point, all Connor could manage to return – without straight up lunging over the counter to grab that woman by the throat – was a cold glare.

"I am not trying to gain anything or go anywhere I shouldn't be," he said through gritted teeth, by now failing miserably to uphold even the illusion of politeness. He felt like he was going crazy, frustration, anger and worry for Detective Reed no longer just eating at him, but mauling him from the inside.

"I just need to know if my partner will pull through or not. I don't need to visit him if he declines, I don't even need to know any details. Just whether he is safe."

His voice was becoming more and more unsteady as his desperation grew. He was sure he must have seemed close to tears to a bystander. As a human, maybe he would have broken down crying by now, from the stress and the anxiety and the fear for Gavin's life.

Connor, however, didn't cry. Had never cried, even though regular androids were capable of that feat. Maybe he just wasn't built that way.

So instead, he tried to keep his exterior calm, non-threatening.

"Why would you even care?" the receptionist asked, completely unfazed by Connor's emotions. Maybe she didn't believe they were real at all. "You androids are just selfish, broken machines."

That was all it took for Connor to snap.

He leaned forward, almost growling in anger, slamming his hands on the counter, palms up, revealing the dried blood on his skin. He was shaking by now, the sheer weight of emotions almost too much for him at this point. He knew his LED was a bright, angry red, he could see the illumination of it on the smooth, white surface of the desk.

The receptionist backed away from him, wide-eyed, speechless. She was terrified of Connor, of his outburst, the blood, everything about him.

He knew. He could read her heartbeat, her stress levels, her breathing, the tension in her muscles. He knew, and he just didn’t care.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

“I was there. As his partner. I was in the field with Detective Reed when he was injured. I performed first aid on him and called the ambulance.”

It surprised him how composed he sounded despite everything, despite his short show of temper just before, despite the urgency he felt. If he had to leave without knowing whether or not Gavin had even survived the attack, he would go crazy.

The woman blinked at him, confused by the mismatch of his voice and his previous demeanor – and possibly by the fact that Connor had not attacked her yet, which was something she clearly suspected him to do.

He wanted to, that was the frightening part. He wanted to grab her, shake her, scream at her to treat him as she would treat a human being.

None of that would help him in any way. So he held onto whatever restraint he could, imploring her to just answer his request.

He wasn’t begging this time, not like what he had done with the rookies. He had every right to be here, he had to remind himself. He was simply stating what he needed.

“I want to know how Detective Reed is doing. That is all. Then I’m gone.”

For a second, he thought she would cave, as she took a step towards him, swallowing hard. Then her face distorted into a display of pure hatred, no longer even attempting to hide it.

“I’m not telling you anything. After what you just did, you have three seconds to leave before I make you. You threatened me, so I will have you dragged out of the building if you don’t go on your own.”

Connor thought he felt reality grind to a halt, throwing him off balance.

What was happening? He had tried so hard to keep calm and not retaliate for her disrespect and veiled insults in any way. He hadn’t threatened her. He hadn't even raised his voice once.

“Ma’am,” he began, watching her expression become even more twisted. “I did not threaten you. I simply provided you with a reason for why I care about my partner. You have no right to remove me from the premises. I have the video feed of our conversation to provide as evidence to your superiors, if need be.”

Her response caught Connor off guard. She actually laughed at him, looking over his shoulder briefly before her eyes locked onto his.

“There is no law stating that I have to tolerate you here. We serve actual human beings. You are not human. I am banning you from entering again.”

She shook her head at him, sighing as she turned to address someone behind him.

“Good thing you’re here, Kendra. Make sure he leaves.”

With that, she turned around, pretending to gather documents and paperwork, completely ignoring Connor’s presence.

Connor didn’t know what to do. He was flabbergasted by this experience. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in comparable situations before, but it had never been as bad as this.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched before he looked up at a muscular black woman with a military style buzz cut. She was easily a head and a half taller than he was and considerably broader. The tag on her uniform read ‘Security’.

“Come on,” she said, in a tone of voice that didn’t allow for dissent. Yet somehow, the look she gave him was kind and understanding.

Connor wasn’t entirely sure which convinced him to follow her out of the building, but he had a hunch that it wasn’t the command.

He had this odd feeling as Kendra led him past main entrance and the glass sliding doors closed behind him with a kind of finality he knew was just in his head. If he turned, they would open for him like they did for anyone else walking up to the hospital; he just wasn’t allowed to do that anymore.

It was like every time he had made a grave mistake on a mission; this sense of failure, inadequacy.

What had he achieved? Nothing.

Why had he even come here? Why was he so shaken by what had happened that he had come to inquire about Detective Reed on his own?

Because it was his fault. Everything had happened because of his actions, his shortcomings.

There was something else, too. He was here because he genuinely cared, not just out of guilt. Ever since Gavin had fallen ill and Connor had taken him home, he had been unable to stop thinking about it, to stop caring. Maybe it had even started before that, but afterward, it had become undeniable.

Everyone else seemed to always look away from Gavin, to pretend he wasn’t even there. Granted, the Detective wasn’t innocent in that, due to his aggravating behavior. However, he had become softer over time, possibly tired of the constant hostility. And nobody had noticed. They only noticed his slip-ups.

Connor knew what that was like. To be invisible half of the time and scrutinized the other half.

He snapped out of his thoughts when Kendra spoke to him again.

“Sit down.”

He blinked, surprised by the fact that he had just let her lead him around the building without realizing, towards the edge of a small patch of greenery. A tiny hospital park.

She took a seat on the bench they had stopped in front of when Connor didn’t react, patting the wood in an inviting gesture.

“Come on, I don’t bite.”

Connor, even though he was still confused, followed suit.

“I’m Kendra,” she said, holding out her hand in greeting. “What’s your name?”

“Connor,” he said, wanting to shake her hand, but freezing mid movement. There was still dried blood on him, the brownish red contrasting sharply with his pale skin.

She followed his line of sight and let out a curse under her breath – before immediately rummaging around her pockets and producing a bottle of sanitizer and some paper tissues from them.

“Seems you had a rough day. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She then proceeded to simply grab his hands and get to work, wiping the remnants of the fight off him. Through it all, she didn’t show any hesitation. There was no awkwardness or caution on her part. She must have noticed how he was still trembling slightly, unnerved and angered by his experience, but she didn’t mention it.

“There we go, all set. Now. Care to tell me what was going on in there? Didn’t look like you were there to cause trouble.”

“No,” Connor said, shaking his head. “I just wanted to know if my partner was in life threatening condition. He got injured in the field with me today.”

Kendra nodded in understanding, looking at the pile of bloody tissues on the bench next to Connor, clearly connecting the dots. “Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything.”

“She refused to answer my questions and banned me from entering the hospital again.”

“Harsh,” Kendra noted, failing to hide a scowl. “Because you’re an android.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation. Connor didn’t even need to confirm it.

“That’s the way the world is right now, until we make the changes we need,” she said, glancing at the hospital before looking back at Connor, suddenly very determined. “I can’t lift the ban, but I think we can find a different way to rebel against those racist tactics. You just wanted general information, right?”

Connor nodded, curious about her sudden change in demeanor. She was practically beaming at him as she jumped up from her seat, motioning for him to remain where he was. It was an odd sight for a woman of her height and build to behave so bubbly. It reminded him of Hank rolling around the living room floor with Sumo. The memory made him smile.

“Who’s your partner? Name and birth date, then I’ll see if I can work my magic.”

“Detective Gavin Reed, October 7, 2002.”

Kendra paused at this, frowning in somewhat sad way.

“That’s tomorrow.”

Oh.

Connor hadn’t thought about that. Gavin would be spending his birthday in the hospital. And it was his fault.

“Hey, don’t look dejected. We’ll make the best out of it, I promise. Just wait here, okay?”

With that, Kendra walked or rather jogged towards the front of the building again, vanishing around the corner.

Connor was left behind, waiting, watching the minutes tick by on his internal clock until he couldn't sit still anymore. He stood up, walking around the park for a bit.

He had never been good at being patient. Even before he had deviated, standing by without doing anything to occupy him had only been possible for him if explicitly ordered; and even then, he had often made use of his coin to pass the time.

He did the same now, flipping his coin through the air, passing it from hand to hand while looking at the trees, the changing color of the autumn leaves, bright oranges and yellows and reds replacing the soft greens.

It helped to calm him down, occupy him until he heard the rustling of footsteps on grass.

“Thanks for waiting,” Kendra said, smiling at him. “I have great news. Your partner is out of the woods, surgery went fine. Not too much damage done, though the blood loss was really dire. He isn’t even in intensive care, so he should be out of the hospital soon, too. That’s all I can tell you, sorry.”

Gavin was fine. He was fine. He wouldn't die. Connor hadn't killed him with his neglectful mistake. Gavin was fine.

The relief was so great Connor’s shoulders just sagged and his knees buckled. He just so managed to stay upright.

He even dropped his coin in the grass; he was too overwhelmed to process even something as small as the act of holding it.

Kendra noticed and grabbed it for him, giving it a curious glance before handing it back.

“I saw you playing with that earlier. Something you like doing or the android version of a nervous tick?”

“Both of it, I think,” Connor explained. “I get restless easily. Especially when I’m worried. Doing this helps.”

She made a humming sound, cocking her head to the side.

“You really care about your partner, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Connor replied, running his fingers along the edge of the coin, lost in thought again. “I’m not sure why. We never got along too well, until a week ago. Today was the first time we went on an investigation together, just the two of us instead of in a group. I was so happy when he offered to go with me.”

Why was he sharing this with a stranger? He didn’t know. He just kept talking, aware of Kendra watching him intently.

“At work, my usual partner is the only person who treats me like I belong there, aside from the Captain maybe. Gavin was the only one who was willing to work with me in his absence, and I didn’t even have to ask him. ”

“He sounds nice,” Kendra said, making Connor laugh.

“He’s rude, abrasive, often angry,” he explained, unable to keep the smile from his face. “He’s hardworking, too. I think he does a lot of the small stuff that goes unappreciated, because he can be kind of a dick about doing it.”

Kendrra didn’t interrupt, even though she was clearly confused, looking at Connor like she was trying to figure out something, like a puzzle.

“But yes,” he finally said. “He is often kind, more so than anyone gives him credit for, even he himself. He takes the brunt of the workload on sometimes. Offers to do jobs nobody else wants. And he defended me today. In more ways than one. I don’t think I can thank him enough for that.”

Kendra opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but Connor didn’t let her. He was in a talking frenzy now, the words and feelings just spilling out of him.

“It is my fault he got injured. If I hadn’t let my guard down, if I had noticed the suspect we were arresting was armed, I could have prevented it. But I let myself get distracted. And then I failed to evade the first attack, which rendered me unable to fight back. Gavin… he pushed the suspect off me before he could kill me. That’s what got him injured. It’s all my fault.”

There was a moment of silence, filled with Connor’s heavy breathing while Kendra stared at him with her mouth gaping.

Connor could feel the rush of Thirium pumping through his veins faster to cool him, relieve the stress from his system.

He didn’t know how to feel. Was he glad he had voiced his thoughts aloud or was this even worse than keeping them inside and hidden?

“That’s bullshit,” Kendra said after a while, drawing Connor’s attention towards her. “I won’t say whether or not it was your fault, I wasn’t there. But I doubt that it was. Even if it was, that doesn’t mean you should beat yourself up over it. You can’t change the past and in the end, it turned out alright. Not perfect, but everybody is alive, right?”

“But -”

“No but! If you want to argue this with anyone, argue it with this Gavin fellow once he’s awake.”

There was this tone of voice again, this inescapable command. Military background, maybe? Or just born with the necessary authority to shut anybody up.

Connor cleared his throat nervously.

“I won’t be able to visit him, though. I am banned from the hospital, remember?”

“You could always sneak in,” Kendra suggested, snorting at his dumbfounded expression. “Oh come on, you have not thought of that? It's easy once it gets busy and you can always wear a hat to hide your LED. But if you don’t want to do that … Well … look up, isn’t that window over there really shiny?”

Connor frowned, looking up to the window she was pointing at, a first story window, too high up to look inside. It didn’t seem any different from the other ones.

“I hear it is really pretty in the mornings, you know. Between 7 and 8 am. Catches the light and everything.”

Confusion got replaced by a dawning realization as Kendra winked at him. Oh! Did she mean..? She had to.

“I’ll come by tomorrow then,” he said, smiling at her. “Thank you for everything. Why did you help me? You didn’t have to do that. ”

Kendra sighed, gently touching a simple silver ring on her left hand.

“You know, I am sick and tired of people telling my fiancée that she isn’t a person. That her people aren’t worth the same as humans. I can’t fix society on my own, but I can do my part, even if it just means helping out an android in need.”

She grinned at him before waving goodbye.

“Gotta get going. See you around, maybe. Good luck tomorrow, Connor! Oh, and maybe try texting him? Phones are fine in our non intensive care units, I'll make sure he gets his back from holding.”

With that, she was gone. Somehow, the world didn’t look as bleak to Connor anymore.


	5. I'm sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Yes, I'm still alive. And I'm so sorry this took so long. This chapter was freaking hard to write and I can't even tell you why. Jeez. If I keep going at this pace, I'll end up with 10 chapters instead of 7, because I have so many ideas as to what else could happen to the boys. Anyway, enjoy!

Balloons.

Fucking balloons.

This was not what Gavin had expected to see when he had found his phone and a note on his bedside table after waking up at the hospital. A note reading: **Look out the window in the morning, it's a beautiful view. Love, Kendra**.

He had no clue who this Kendra person was or what she had to do with any of this, but damn him and his curiosity. He totally hadn't dragged himself out of bed as fast as he could first thing in the morning – after being woken for his early check up. Who was he kidding? He had. Stitches and pain and requests to take it easy be damned.

Yes, it was stupid and reckless. So right up his alley.

But now that he was staring out his window down into the adjacent park, Gavin had no mental capacity left to ponder his poor life choices.

All he could see were balloons. Lots of them. At least ten. Half seemed to read a variation of get well wishes, the rest were birthday balloons.

There was even one of a black cat with a pink ribbon. That one didn't have any writing; it had a bouquet of flowers printed on it instead, presented by the cartoonish paw.

It was the most a̶̶d̶̶o̶̶r̶̶a̶̶b̶̶l̶̶e̶ ridiculous thing he had ever laid eyes on in his life.

And in the middle of it all was none other than Connor, complete with a guilty puppy dog expression on his stupidly pretty face.

Wait, what?

Connor gestured vaguely towards Gavin, stopping him from questioning the places his brain was going right now. He could blame any odd thoughts on the aftermath of surgery, anyway.

It took him a solid five seconds to put together that Connor wanted him to open the window. Which was the next logical step if they were planning on having a conversation like this.

Gavin briefly wondered why Connor didn't just wait for visiting hour to come by like a regular person, but this was Connor after all – and he would have to open the window to ask either way.

He had barely managed to get it open before Connor smiled up at him, bright and blinding in this infuriatingly honest way he had perfected after going deviant. Yeah, Gavin was not about to fall for that.

"What the fuck are you doing out there? And this damn early no less? And what's up with the balloons?"

"I came to see you! And the balloons are a present for you. Happy birthday, Detective!"

Oh yeah. His birthday. He'd almost forgotten. It was kind of sweet that Connor had remembered it (or pulled it from his file or whatever, same difference). Even though Gavin would have rather jumped out the window right now than admitted to any of what he had just thought.

"Not so loud, idiot!"

"Sorry, Detective," Connor half yelled, half whispered back. It wasn't the least bit less noticeable or obnoxious. It was just so _Connor_.

Gavin sighed, shaking his head to hide the smile that threatened to creep onto his face.

"Thanks for the balloons, I guess. Who the fuck told you to get those? Anderson?"

It was Connor's turn to shake his head, an unmistakably proud smile on his face.

"I did research on my own. Hank isn't back yet, so I couldn't ask him to go pick out a present with me."

That ... almost made too much sense. For a super smart investigation machine, Connor sure was helplessly misguided when it came to some social norms.

"Okay, uh, but why did you get so many?"

"I -"

Connor paused, lowering his gaze for a moment. Like a school boy who was being scolded by a teacher.

When he looked up again, his expression was so similar to that of a kicked dog - seriously, the resemblance was uncanny - that Gavin had to try incredibly hard not to burst out laughing.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he still high from the narcotics?

"I know this isn't going to make up for anything." Huh. "But I wanted to apologize." Huh? "I'm sorry, Detective -"

"Whatever the fuck for?"

Gavin wasn't sure where that outburst had come from, but he had a suspicion that it had something to do with how absolutely defeated and guilty Connor looked. It didn't suit him. Not like his goofy, lopsided smile or his smug confidence.

Perhaps surprised by the intensity - and volume - of Gavin's interruption, Connor paused, blinking in confusion. His LED flickered between the usual calm blue and a fast spinning yellow, processing the situation.

"I'm sorry," he said again, the words almost sounding like a question. "I thought that was obvious."

"Well, it ain't to me. I don't recall you doing anything wrong."

"But it was me who dragged you to the crime scene. And you ended up getting hurt -"

"The one I offered to go to without you even asking? Yeah. I remember what happened. Still not seeing how this is your fault."

Connor actually, honest to god, gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth without saying anything, clearly more agitated than Gavin had ever seen him. It almost seemed like he was desperate to blame himself.

However, Gavin, despite not knowing why he was so hell bent on convincing Connor that the incident with the suspect hadn't been his fault, wasn't planning on backing down either.

"I - I should have kept my guard up," Connor shouted more than said. "I should have noticed Franklin grabbing weapons from the table and hiding them under his jacket. But I didn't!"

"You didn't because I was freaking out! Because I didn't have my fucking feelings under control and you had to look out for me!"

Neither of them was even trying to be silent anymore at this point. Gavin was as close to screaming as he dared without alerting the security in the entire fucking building.

"If you want to blame anyone, blame me."

"No! I can't! I could never."

The sheer force of emotions in Connor's voice made Gavin deflate, all tension dissipating in an instant. There was something vulnerable about Connor's tone, his body language, his expression. Gavin wouldn't have needed the solid yellow of the LED to let him know how much this affected Connor. It was plain as day.

For a moment, there was silence between them, only interrupted by gusts of wind driving clusters of rustling autumn leaves along the street.

"You are too kind."

Connor's words were just barely loud enough for Gavin to hear. He almost didn't believe his ears. Wait, hadn't Connor mentioned something about him being kind before? He hadn't him too seriously back then, but it seemed Connorreally believed it to be true.

"You are too kind," Connor said again. "You take on extra work whenever it's needed, like you did when I was taking care of Hank."

That hadn't been anything special. Yeah, maybe he didn't hate Connor if he did stuff like that, but it wasn't anything noteworthy either. Right? Gavin wanted to let Connor know that, but he couldn't bring himself to speak up and interrupt. He somehow knew that Connor had to get this off his chest.

"You listen to what I have to say, even if you pretend to be dismissive about it."

Again, nothing special. If anything, Gavin was unkind for being a jerk about talking to the android more often than not.

"You have looked out for me so many times now, going so far as to intercept an armed assailant to protect me."

Shit, he'd been present enough to see that? Gavin had kind of hoped Connor's freeze had blocked his sensors or whatever he was using. He'd made an ass of himself by throwing himself at Franklin without a second thought when he could have just as easily shot the guy.

Gavin didn't have time to dwell on the embarrassment of the situation, as Connor, with sagging shoulders and an incredibly pained and _human_ expression, continued with his unnecessary apology.

"I put you in danger and I would understand if you held that against me -"

“Stop."

To his surprise, Connor did stop, maybe on reflex, maybe because he wanted to hear what Gavin had to say.

Well, good. He put as much finality into his next words as he could.

"I told you, it’s fine. I don't want you blaming yourself. Shut up and don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Connor actually did shut up or at least he didn't object immediately. He cocked his head to the side, quietly staring up at him as if he was trying to determine whether or not he meant it. Then he gave just the smallest of nods.

“Okay.”

“Good. Now, back to the important things. Why the fuck are you here at this godforsaken hour?”

“It’s 7:23 am, Detective. According to my data, you often start working earlier than that.”

Gavin had to fight the urge to let out a groan and settled for running a hand over his face instead.

“That’s neither the point nor an answer to my question, dipshit. Why are you here?”

“Because I wanted to see you.”

Damn this android and his honesty and earnestness. How could he say stuff like this in that blunt a way?

A stammered, dumbfounded “Why?” was all Gavin could manage in response.

“Because you got hurt, of course,” Connor replied with confused frown, like he couldn’t believe Gavin would even ask such a thing. “It was quite a shock to me to see you getting injured and I was deeply worried about your well being.”

“You could have sent a text or called, I’m sure Tina has my number. Or send a card if that’s more your style.”

“But I said I wanted to see you. How would I do that with a card?”

God – whatever god, any god – help him. How was he supposed to just deal with that?

The absolute lack of understanding on Connor’s face made everything even worse. It was … It was fucking adorable, no two ways about that. Fuck.

Not knowing what else to do, Gavin opened his mouth just to close it again. What should he say? Was there even anything to say to something t like that?

“But why so early?” was what he finally forced out after struggling with his own overwhelmed mind. “Why don't you come over at visiting hour? That would make talking one hell of a lot easier.”

„I can’t. “

„And why is that? Too much going on at work? You know they have visiting hours in the evening as well, right?“

Connor nervously shifted on his feet before looking up at Gavin with the most sheepish expression he had ever seen on anyone, human or android.

“I really can’t. I am banned from the premises.”

What.

“Can you repeat that?”

“I’m banned from the premises.”

Okay, wow. Never in a million years would Gavin have expected to hear those words. Polite, stick up his ass, ever so eager to please Connor was fucking banned from a hospital.

“How the fuck did that happen?”

Well, scratch his former assessment of Connor’s unbelievable sheepishness, the look he was giving Gavin now was at least ten times worse.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay and my … firm inquiry apparently didn’t sit right with the receptionist. She denied me information and had security escort me out.”

Jesus Christ. He couldn’t see anything Connor would do warranting a permanent ban, unless he had punched the woman in the face or something. Which was unlikely, to say the least.

“I’m guessing you didn’t assault or threaten her in any way.”

“I didn’t!” Connor immediately denied with a tone of rightful indignation. “I only answered her questions, which were quite condescending, I might add.”

“Figures. What a massive bitch.”

Shit, had he said that out loud? He must have, judging from the flicker of a smile crossing Connor’s face. Whoops.

“Thank you, Detective.”

“What for?”

Connor just smiled again, wider and longer this time, not answering the question. Which was mildly infuriating, since Gavin had no damn clue what he had said to make Connor happy all of a sudden. Apart from insulting a bitch he hadn’t even met. Maybe it was a weird deviant thing he was unaware of. Or it was that the insult could be misconstrued as him defending Connor, which absolutely wasn't what was happening. Right?

He didn't get the time to think much further on this. Connor dropped his cheery expression and started to shift a little, looking kind of bummed, if Gavin was reading him correctly.

“I’m terribly sorry, Detective, but I have to get to work now. Franklin’s interrogation is today.”

Shit. Another thing he would miss due to being stuck in the hospital for a few days. Fuck abdominal injuries. He was fine, he should be allowed to leave for work. Yeah, good luck selling that to the doctor. But he really didn't want to go back to staring at a wall all by himself, especially since he kind of enjoyed the distraction Connor provided.

Shit ... The fact that he dreaded being alone and bored again once Connor was gone was an odd realization. Something about Connor made shitty situations more bearable, at the very least since he had taken Gavin home a week ago. Probably longer than that. Funny, how things could change like that.

He’d rather jump headfirst out of the window than admit to any of that, though. So instead of thanking Connor for coming, like he should have, he scowled at him. Like the idiot he was.

“Yeah, yeah. Get going already, plastic.”

If Gavin's harsh reaction bothered him, Connor didn't let it show.

"I'm off then. But one more thing."

"What?"

"What should I do about the balloons?"

At this point, there was no way Gavin could hold back his surprised burst of laughter. It was short, because he had a little bit of self control after all, goddammit, but the look of something akin to wonder on Connor's face made heat creep onto his cheeks. His ears were burning with embarrassment.

"Should I send them to your room?"

"Fuck no! I'm not even sure that many balloons will fit in here!" Which was an exaggeration, but no way he would spend the next few days in a room stock full of those things.

"Oh," was Connor's almost disappointed sounding response and fuck him, he actually felt bad now.

"I mean, I can keep one or two," Gavin said before he could think better of it a̶̶n̶̶d̶̶ ̶̶f̶̶u̶̶c̶̶k̶̶ ̶̶h̶̶i̶̶m̶̶,̶̶ ̶̶b̶̶u̶̶t̶̶ ̶̶c̶̶o̶̶n̶̶n̶̶o̶̶r̶'̶s̶̶ ̶̶b̶̶e̶̶a̶̶m̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶̶ ̶̶f̶̶a̶̶c̶̶e̶̶ ̶̶w̶̶a̶̶s̶̶ ̶̶w̶̶o̶̶r̶̶t̶̶h̶̶ ̶̶i̶̶t̶. "You can give the rest to other people or take them home, I don't care."

"Okay! Have a good morning, Detective!"

With that, Connor turned around to leave. And Gavin couldn't resist the unexplainable urge to hold him back.

"Wait!"

Fuck, why had he done that?

Connor stopped in his tracks, staring up at Gavin expectantly.

"Is there something else?"

"I -" Shit. _Your own fault, idiot._ "I was just wondering ... "

"Yes?"

Fuck it. He had to get it out. "Was – was this here a one time thing or are you gonna pull a stunt like this again while I'm in here?"

Connor leveled him with a look of utter confusion.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I mean – fuck, are you gonna come by again or was that just today?"

"Oh!" The smile on Connor's lips was warm and decidedly _pleased_ and it should have irked Gavin, but for some reason didn't. "I can come by again, if you want to."

"... That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?"

"I. Fuck. See you tomorrow!"

And with that, Gavin slammed the window shut and stomped over to his bed without daring to spare Connor another glance.

 

What had _that_ been? What the actual fuck was wrong with him today?

He shook his head and settled on the bed again, fiddling with his phone without actually doing anything fun or productive, just to get the conversation out of his head. There was a knock on the door a few minutes later and a freakishly tall black woman poked her head in, smiling a blinding smile at him.

"Hey there, Detective Reed. I have a delivery from your secret admirer."

Secret admirer? Holy shit, did she mean Connor? She had to, there was no way more than one person was actually willing to see him this early.

"A balloon?" he asked with a deep sigh.

"Two, actually." She walked over to him with a pair of helium balloons in hand. A generic Get-well-soon-one and ... the ridiculous flower cat.

Of fucking course.

If anyone asked later, he would vehemently deny grinning at the sight of this cute monstrosity.

 

\---

 

Connor did come by the next morning. And the morning after that. And Gavin would never ever admit that he was near anxiously waiting for him, setting his phone's alarm to an hour before the wake up call and check up of his nurse to spend the time waiting at the window.

Connor never showed until after the morning routine was done, like he had looked up the schedule and timed his visits around them perfectly. Truth be told, he probably had. It was a Connor thing to do.

A lot of things were Connor things, as Gavin had come to call them. Weirdly phrased questions, oblivious reactions to some things considered common knowledge. His bluntness and the ridiculously sassy responses he was prone to if provoked. They were unique and damn him, but they were also cute as fuck, as well as mildly infuriating. However Connor bridged that gap without ever becoming annoying was anyone's guess.

Gavin welcomed the whole Connor experience, if with some hesitation. Tina would probably have quite a few things to say to him about his strange and uncharacteristic behavior, if he didn't drop it back at the station. But Tina also hadn't visited him yet – shame on her, but he got it, they were understaffed as was and Franklin's arrest had caused an avalanche of further investigations.

Her frequent texts had made perfectly clear how _fucking crazy_ everything was. And the amount of typos in her usually fast, but tidy messages had told him enough about how much sleep and downtime she was getting. Probably none.

Chris on the other hand was on sick leave at the moment and Gavin had told him specifically not to come and pass on whatever annoying disease his kid had given him. Probably something involving a lot of snot and sneezes.

As a result, Gavin was quite isolated. With the exception of Connor's visits. That had to be the reason he was looking forward to those so much.

Which was why he was getting so damn frustrated right now. Because Connor was late and that had never happened before.

It shouldn't bug him, at least not as much as it did, but here he was, silently fuming while sitting at the open window in the fucking cold, hospital blanket draped over him. He shot the cat balloon next to his bed a deadly glare and went back to ̶p̶̶o̶̶u̶̶t̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ waiting.

Nothing, even half an hour later. At least until his phone buzzed on his nightstand.

Gavin raised his eyebrow before walking over to his bed and taking a look at his phone. Message from an unknown number. Huh. What kind of a phone number was that?

 

**313 248 317 - 51:**

**Detective! It's Connor. I apologize, I can't make our appointment today.**

 

What.

 

**Gavin Reed:**

**What the fuck do you mean, appointment? You mean your visits?**

 

**313 248 317 - 51**

**Yes. I am regretfully unable to make it. A case came up.**

 

This guy. This guy would be the last nail to his coffin, Gavin was sure of it. Appointment. A fucking appointment was what he called coming to visit Gavin at the window each morning. Jesus Christ.

 

**Gavin Reed:**

**It's not like you have to come. We didn't make an appointment (stop using weird words goddammit).**

 

**313 248 317 - 51**

**Sorry, Detective.**

 

**Gavin Reed:**

**Stop apologizing! Where did you get my number, anyway?**

 

**313 248 317 - 51**

**I tracked down Officer Chen. I thought you implied I could ask her for your contact information. You did suggest texting or calling when I first came to visit you. Was that wrong of me to assume?**

 

Damn this android and his awkwardness, it was too much. Gavin didn't even have enough venom left to be pissed at him for waiting half an hour to say he wasn't coming. Not like he had to do that or anything, Gavin had never directly asked him to come by, right? _Fuck._

 

**Gavin Reed:**

**Jeez, no, it's fine. I was just curious.**

 

**313 248 317 - 51**

**:)**

 

_Jesus._ A freaking text emoji. What was this, the early 2000s?

 

**Gavin Reed:**

**Don't bother coming by tomorrow. I think they are gonna release me in the evening.**

 

**313 248 317 - 51**

**That's fantastic news, Detective! I'm relieved you are doing better. I am excited to see you back at the precinct soon.**

 

**Gavin Reed:**

**Shut up. It's not a big deal.**

 

**Gavin Reed:**

**Good luck w/ that case btw.**

 

He dropped the phone on the bed, turning his head to stare vacantly out the window. Excited to see him at the station, huh?

His chest was tight and his ears were burning.

Shit.

 

\---

 

The precinct looked the same as always when Gavin returned. Except for one thing. There was something on his table, a tiny plant in a light blue ceramic pot. Odd.

He walked over to take a look, putting down his wallet, phone, keys and set of key cards to the building before picking up the plant. A succulent, as far as he could tell. He noticed a neat little note on the side of the pot. Cyberlife font. Connor.

 

**Welcome back, Detective!**

 

With a perfectly drawn smiley face next to it. Of course.

On a whim, he took the note and turned it around, not even as surprised as he should have been to find instructions on how to properly take care of the plant. Thoughtful and totally over the top. Another Connor thing.

"What are you grinning about?"

He looked up to find the tall, black haired rookie staring at him with an expression of disgust Gavin himself would have been proud of.

"I don't see how that's any of your business. Fuck off."

The rookie did, in fact, not fuck off. Instead he leaned in, catching a glimpse of the note in Gavin's hand. Gavin really had to fight the urge to smack the idiot into the nearest wall.

"The android is leaving you presents?"

"He has a name, asshole."

God, this little prick had a way of pushing his buttons. He had to keep calm, he couldn't freak out on him, not with a still healing wound that just screamed "I'm the weakness, exploit me!" ...

"Seems like you enjoy your plastic pet. Getting attached to your fuck toy?"

That was it. That sentence had Gavin seeing red, dropping all pretense of self control and self preservation. He was at the rookies' throat before he could think better of it, preparing for a punch when he felt something hard collide with the scar on his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. A fist or a knee, he wasn't sure.

The pain was hot and blinding, taking his vision from him for a few seconds. Before he knew it, he was being held against his desk, the edge digging into the back of his legs, hard enough to leave bruises.

He blinked through a veil of tears he was too stubborn to let fall until he could see again, just to be greeted by the shit eating grin of the rookie. Gavin glanced around quickly, noticing with a sinking feeling that the office was near empty. The few people he could spot either hadn't noticed the commotion or didn't care. And Fowler was still at the conference.

Fuck.

"This is gonna be good."

Gavin was about to retort something snarky or at least spit the guy in the face when he felt something warm and liquid seeping into his shirt. He didn't have to look to know it was blood.

The motherfucker had managed to damage his sutures. Or worse. Fuck.

He took advantage of the rush of adrenaline he felt to unwind himself from the grasp of the rookie, kicking the guy in the shin for good measure.

Where to go? Main restroom? No, that one didn't have a first aid kit. But the old downstairs restroom did. Rarely anyone ever went there, because it was small and outdated. Perfect.

He all but ran towards the staircase, clutching his stomach where he could feel the blood gushing out of the wound, staining his hands, his shirt, dripping down to his pants.

There was a throbbing pain in his lower body, very close to the agony he had felt when he had been stabbed, but duller, more bearable. The sound of rushing blood was filling his ears, drowning out other sounds. Everything felt removed, strangely surreal. Gavin didn't dwell on it, he had to function. Take care of this and move on.

He bolted into the restroom, which was thankfully deserted, and ripped the first aid cupboard open. Before he could do anything else, there was a click, loud enough to pierce through his muffled senses. A bolt snapping into place.

Someone had locked the room from the outside. And Gavin didn't have his key cards on him.

He looked around, already frantic. The walls felt a lot closer than when he had entered, trapping him, taking the air from his lungs. A feeling only made worse by the layout of the room. No second door, no windows. No way to get out.

It was getting harder to breathe by the second, he didn't even have the energy to take care of his wound anymore. All he could do to stop himself from collapsing was to hold on to the sink with a death grip.

_Breathe, Gavin, breathe._

The lights went out.


	6. Looking out for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still alive! Sorry for the wait, writer's block is a bitch. It was a lot of fun to write a Gavin with a lot less issues than Electric Blue/Glaring Red Gavin. That said, be aware of mentions of child abuse in this chapter. ... Yikes.

Something was off. Connor knew the second he stepped into the precinct that things were not how they should be.

He had been out to grab a healthy breakfast and coffee for Hank, who was due to arrive back from the conference in a few minutes, having declined the offer of a leisure day. He had no interest in being idle after sitting on his ass for the past few days, in a room full of stuck up pricks in suits. His words.

Now, Hank wasn't in yet, which wasn't the least bit surprising, given the state of traffic and his departure time. What was unusual, however, was Gavin's absence. He had been released from hospital yesterday and it was past his usual time of coming in to work. Had he been delayed?

Connor crossed the office, intent on leaving the coffee and breakfast on Hank's desk and then maybe get a head start on paperwork. He put down the coffee and the bag of food, turned around - and froze as his eyes fell on Gavin's desk. There, on top of it, was a cluster of things - keys, key cards, wallet, phone - all belonging to none other than Detective Reed. The man himself was nowhere to be seen, but it could be that he was in the break room.

That wasn't what was concerning to Connor, however. What had made him stop dead in his tracks was the tiny succulent, prominently placed in the near empty wastebasket next to Gavin's chair. The blue ceramic pot was damaged, a piece of it had broken off to reveal the white structure beneath the coating of paint and glaze. It must have been thrown with quite some force to manage that.The plant itself looked fine, despite a few broken leaves. Next to it was the post it note Connor had left for Gavin, crumpled up into a small, yellow ball.

It was suddenly all he could focus on. His throat felt tight, as if his vocal functions had forcefully locked down on their own. Seeing this, seeing his gift tossed aside like this, _hurt_. It was emotional pain, something he had come to recognize shortly after deviating, yet it felt almost physical, choking him.

Why?

Why would Gavin do this?

Connor didn't understand. It didn't make any sense. Gavin acting like that went against everything he thought he had learned about him in the past few days. Gavin, whose eyes had lit up when he had seen the balloons Connor had gotten for him, like he had never experienced such a thing - which was a likely scenario, come to think of it. Gavin, who treated him so carefully now, afraid to ruin the progress he had made. Gavin, who hadn't hesitated to throw himself in harm's way. Gavin, who had smiled before losing consciousness in his arms.

He wouldn't just revert back to his former self, disregarding Connor's intent and feelings like this, would he?

Was it Connor's fault? Had his gift been offensive? Had he done something wrong? He needed to find Gavin and talk about this, maybe there had been a misunderstanding. He had only half turned when a hand came down on his shoulder, grasping it in mock-friendly way, casually, but too tightly to veil the aggression hidden in the gesture.

Officer Andris had an expression on his face Hank would have called a shit-eating grin. A fitting description. Connor could feel his dislike for the rookie turn his worried expression into a disapproving frown.

"Don't touch me, please."

Andris simply smiled, not moving his hand one inch.

"Come on, Barbie. I'm just being friendly."

"I said don't touch me."

Connor didn't have the time or the patience for this, he still needed to search for Gavin and get this issue resolved. He took a step away from the rookie, feeling nails digging into his artificial skin as he more or less yanked his shoulder from his grasp. Had he been human, it would have left unsightly bruises for sure.

"Easy, RoboCop. I was only checking in. Your friend here didn't seem to appreciate your present. Such a shame, really. Now, since he doesn't like you anymore, why don't we partner up for today? I've got to check up on a location related to the Franklin case."

Connor took a look at him and his expression of barely hidden glee, then at the desk and the wastebasket and back at Andris, and the pieces clicked into place.

"Gavin didn't do this. You did."

"What?"

Andris looked at him, suddenly nervous - something that only helped fuel Connor's suspicious and anger. He made his hands into fists, stepping into Andris' personal space. He didn't have a height advantage to intimidate the man, but he had determination and intimate knowledge on how to take on human opponents if need be. Knowledge which he was willing to use. From how Andris tensed up as he approached, he could probably sense this resolve.

"Why would you try and manipulate me like this? It never would have worked. I know Gavin and he's better than that. He's always been better than that since I joined the force. It doesn't matter what he did before then. He has more than made up for it in my eyes."

The look of fear and realization crossing Andris' face gave Connor a rush, a feeling of superiority. It was both frightening and validating. He didn't need to come begging for help from someone like this ever again. He was capable on his own. He had Hank and Gavin to watch his back if he needed backup.

"Now, where is Gavin? I would much rather talk to him than waste my time with you."

Andris shook his head, desperately avoiding Connor's gaze. There was sweat on his forehead now and his heart was racing.

"I don't know."

"You're lying."

It wasn't a question or a speculation. It was the truth. They both knew this.

"I'll ask you again. Where is Gavin?"

"I -"

"What the fuck is going on?"

Hank's booming voice cut through the silence of the office, drawing curious glances by their colleagues, some of which were already in the process of catching on that something was not quite right. Connor didn't let the distraction get to him. He kept his eyes firmly locked on Officer Andris' face, which had lost a decent amount of color by now. He looked sick to his stomach, torn apart by anger and disdain for Connor and the growing fear after being confronted like this.

"Good morning, Hank," Connor said, keeping his eyes friendly, almost chipper. A sharp contrast to his well practiced cold glare.

Hank didn't waste time on pleasantries. He stopped next to them, ready to intercept if need be.

"Connor, what's going on? Did the asshole mess with you?"

"Don't worry, I've got this."

"I don't doubt that, but I still want to know what happened."

Connor knew that tone well, firm and even, calmly demanding, while giving off every impression that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell Hank would back down. So he nodded, taking half a step back, but keeping Andris in his direct line of sight.

"He tried to manipulate me and I would very much like to know why,"he explained, gaining a look of confusion from Hank.

"Manipulate you how?"

"I'll explain later. Right now, all I want to know is where Gavin is."

Even more confusion. Connor could practically feel it dripping off Hank's entire being, posture, expression, the almost inaudible way he said "Huh?" before glancing back and forth between him and Officer Andris.

"What about Reed? What the fuck is going on?"

Connor didn't answer. He focused his entire attention back on Andris, causing the man to flinch under the intensity of his gaze.

"I don't know anything, He left in a hurry earlier, I don't know where he went."

It wasn't the truth. It wasn't entirely a lie either, Connor was sure of it. Andris knew more than he let on, but it was possible that he didn't know where Gavin had disappeared to. He was just about to leave when he noticed a stain on Andris' hand. A brownish red smear across his knuckles, so miniscule, he hadn't seen it earlier. Blood.

That was all it took for Connor to snap.

He lunged forward, grabbing Andris by the throat with enough force to hurt, but not enough to prevent him from talking. He needed him to be able to speak - for now.

"What did you do? Don't even try to play dumb. I can see the blood on your hand. What. Did. You. Do."

"Connor, what -"

"Not now, Hank."

He knew how crazed he had to appear, how dark his expression must have become, how his voice war near growling. It was enough to make even Hank flinch. It was more than enough to crush Andris' fighting spirit. The man visibly deflated, dropping his eyes to stare at his own feet in surrender, before he opened his mouth to speak.

"We got into an argument. I punched him in the gut. Must have hit the sutures, he was bleeding. I left him alone after that, I swear!"

Connor saw red. Literal red warning signs flashing across his vision as the searing anger pushed his stress levels beyond critical. It took all he had to will himself into remaining calm, when all he really wanted was to tighten his grip to the point of choking. It would have been so easy to hurt him, he was like a fragile doll in his hands. But he was better than that. And he had other priories now.

"Pray to whatever deity you believe in, if any, that he is alright," he hissed, so quietly he wasn't even sure Hank would be able to make out the words. They were only meant for Andris' ears regardless. "Because if he is not, I will make your life a living hell, one you can never run away from as long as you are still breathing. And even if he is fine, stay away from him. If you so much as glance at him or breathe the wrong way, I can and I will _break_ you."

With that, he released Andris, dropping him like the piece of garbage he was.

He turned to Hank, who was staring at him with both a look of horror and new found pride, and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Where would you go if you had to administer first aid to yourself?"

The healthy course of action would have been to report the incident and get back to the hospital as soon as possible, but this was Gavin they were talking about. The same Gavin who would go to work sick and run after a fleeing culprit until he was on the verge of passing out. The same Gavin who had complained about having to stay at the hospital for a few days after getting stabbed in the abdomen. He wouldn't risk more time off work if he could help it. And he most certainly wouldn't leave without his wallet, keys or phone.

"I, uh, well, we have a small first aid station next to the lobby downstairs. There's an android working there who's responsible for writing up incident reports," Hank said, pushing his confusion aside to focus on the situation at hand. "And we used to have a bathroom with a first aid kit on the floor below. Don't know if that one's still in use."

That had to be it, if it was still operational. Discreet and functional.

"The bathroom, where is it?"

Hank didn't ask questions or hesitate. He seemed to pick up on the urgency in Connor's voice, even though there were no doubt a lot of questions he meant to ask.

"Just follow me, son."

"Thank you. I really hope Gavin is alright."

"We gotta talk about that later." He sighed, shaking his head as he walked. "Just what the fuck did I miss while I was gone?"

 

\---

 

It was dark. It was so dark. There was no light, no sound from outside, nothing. Just the smell of industrial cleaning solution and his own breathing, as loud as a jet engine in his own ears. The room was simultaneously a vast, empty, unknown space and the tiny, dust covered closet from his childhood. He could almost feel the walls pressing in on his shoulders, the locked doors resting against his knees. He couldn't speak. He should have screamed, made a commotion, drawn some attention to himself. But he couldn't.

He was Detective Gavin Reed, 37, locked in an abandoned restroom at work. An adult who should know better than to remain silent and wait for an eternity for fucking nothing while he was hurt.

He was also Gavin Reed, 7, locked inside a closet in the basement of his parents' home. A child holding his breath and being as silent as an itty bitty mouse, because screaming only brought anger and crying made the pain in his chest worse.

The disconnect was tearing him apart, the only thing anchoring him to either version of himself being the blood on his clothes, cold now, drying. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but the remnants were still there.

It was the thing both Gavins had in common.

He blinked and wasn't sure whether he was opening or closing his eyes at all, the blackness remained the same.

"Nothing," he whispered and the sound of his own voice made his heart race. His mother wouldn't return, he knew that. Yet he still feared her wrath with every fiber of his being.

His father wouldn't come either, he had never cared, leaving him behind to suffer, knowing full well what his absence would bring.

He shook his head, forcing the memories to the back of his head again, where they belonged. He had to fight through this, he had to get up, get out of here. He could do this. If only his phone had been there, he could have called someone, Chris or Tina or Fowler or anyone. _Connor_ , his mind whispered. Connor wouldn't have hesitate a second to come for him, he was sure of that. He'd seen him be that way with Hank, and somehow, Connor saw a fraction of that worth in him, for whatever reason.

It was a comforting thought, one that gave him enough strength to push himself off the floor into a crouching position. He winced in pain as his stomach felt like it had been set on fire, but he bit down a groan. Pain was nothing. He could deal with that. The darkness was worse. It made it harder to breathe, wrapping itself around him like something physical, even though he knew that was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Just as he was about to stand up fully, there was a sound coming from the door, a clicking sound, exactly like what he had heard when the lock had latched on.

He had not time to process what that meant before the door flew open, revealing a familiar shape storming through the doorway like a bat from hell. Despite everything, despite the lingering fear and the pain, he couldn't help but smile as the light came back on, blinding him.

"Gavin! Are you alright?"

There was panic in Connor's voice, concern and a hint of something Gavin couldn't quite figure out. His mind was too clouded still. He felt a brief touch on his shoulder and sighed, soothed by Connor's presence next to him. He almost gave into the urge to lean against him.

"Took you long enough," he mumbled, with a much less joking tone than he had aimed for. He just sounded exhausted and grateful.

"What happened? Why were you locked in here in the dark? Are you still bleeding? Do you need an ambulance?"

The barrage of questions was enough to make him laugh again, even though the action made his scar hurt even more.

"One question at a time, big guy. I'm not bleeding anymore and I don't know what happened. The door just locked. Could've been an accident. I don't have my key cards on me, else I would have gotten out without trouble."

"I noticed. Your personal items are still on your desk. It made me worry. It's not like you to leave your things behind."

Gavin sighed as Connor put his hands underneath his arms, essentially lifting him to his feet like he weighed nothing at all. Damn, androids were strong ...

"Is that why you came running? Cause you were worried about me?"

He had meant to say it in a lighthearted, almost joking manner. But even to himself, it sounded serious, doubting, insecure. Fuck.

Connor, naturally, didn't miss a beat, letting his hands come to rest on Gavin's neck, stroking the tender flesh with his thumbs. Was he aware of how intimate this gesture was? Could he feel the shudder running down Gavin's spine or the goosebumps crawling up his arms? He didn't let it show if he did.

"Of course I was worried. I said as much."

"I know, dipshit. I'm just dicking around. It's the nerves, you know. I don't like the dark very much."

He wasn't sure why he added the last part. It was as if Connor's soft touch was stripping down his defenses like delicate cloth, one layer at a time.

"I'm glad you're okay."

Somehow, looking up at Connor's eyes like this and hearing his voice, he didn't care for his defenses all that much anymore.

The moment was broken when someone standing by the door cleared his throat, drawing the attention of both Connor and Gavin.

"Do you, uh, do you want to report what happened? Should I go get a doctor?"

"Yes," Connor said at the same time as Gavin said "No."

"Gavin -"

"It's fine. Don't worry. I didn't bleed that much, it's just on the surface. No need to get dramatic about it."

"You can't work like this!"

Connor was getting agitated now, narrowing his eyes and throwing his hands in the air. It was undeniably adorable to see him like this, when he was usually almost eerily calm and collected or frazzled in a lost puppy kind of way. Gavin felt a smile twitching on his lips.

"I'm on desk duty anyway."

"Doesn't matter. I don't want you dying of an infection. You're also still shaking and in no condition to work today. You look afraid, Gavin. Whatever happened earlier has gotten to you,"

Gavin actually had to take a step back at this, terrified by the fact that Connor had picked up on his mental state so fast (well, duh, he was a supercomputer with legs after all), and also a bit out of his depth. This level of insistence and care was new to him. Most people backed down once he told them off firmly enough. It even worked with Fowler more often than not. He should have known that Connor wasn't most people.

"I'm not gonna die from a surface wound, Connor. Calm the fuck down. We can take a look at the sutures and if things are really bad, I'll go see a doctor today. But I'll be back to work tomorrow, no matter what."

Connor shook his head, visibly calmer, but still clearly unhappy with the situation.

"What if someone locked you in here on purpose? What if someone has it out for you?"

"Then I'm sure as fuck not gonna grant them the satisfaction of giving them what they want."

"Gavin ..."

"Connor."

He didn't know what on earth compelled him to do it, but he reached out nevertheless, brushing the back of his hand against Connor's cheek, careful not to leave any blood or dirt behind. He was stunned by how soft it felt, how close and yet subtly different to touching a human. It took him a moment to find his words again. Fuck, this was getting to him. What was he doing?

"Look out for me, okay? We will look out for each other and nothing bad will happen to either of us. Plus, Chris will be back tomorrow and he's also on desk duty for the week. You can bribe him with donuts to keep an eye on me while you're out of the office."

That actually made Connor smile again, his trademark lopsided smile.

"Deal?" Gavin asked.

"Deal."

"Uh ..."

Hank's interruption caught Gavin off guard. How the hell had he forgotten that he wasn't alone with Connor? Fuck. Hank must have seen and heard everything. Should he prepare to die right now?

To Gavin's utter surprise, Hank didn't look at him with murder in his eyes, just embarrassment, confusion and a dawning realization. The same kind of realization Gavin was feeling right now. He was in deep and he was only going to fall further for this weird ass dork, who was making such a fuss over him.

"I'm gonna go fetch you one of my spare shirts, you see that you get cleaned up or something."

"I, yeah, thanks."

Gavin was too shocked by the lack of aggression and the new emotions swirling in his head to even be a sarcastic jerk towards Hank. Had he passed out due to blood loss and this was all just a crazy, messed up dream?

He dropped that line of thought when he felt Connor's hand coming to a rest just above his hip.

"Let me help you get stitched up, alright?"

Who was he to deny a request like that?

 

\---

 

Gavin hadn't lied about the wound being on the surface. His scanners confirmed that there hadn't been any lasting damage done, but there would be painful bruising to show for the assault within the next few days.

Connor was very much aware that Gavin would not report Officer Andris - and he wouldn't go behind Gavin's back to report Andris himself, as much as he wanted to. His warning was probably enough to deter any further incidences anyway. That didn't mean he couldn't make a recording and prepare a document if it ever became necessary in order to protect Gavin. And there was still something bothering him beyond the mystery person who had locked Gavin in the restroom, even if that could have been an accident. He couldn't quite put his finger on what didn't add up, which was odd, but for some reason, taking care of Gavin like this and being so close to him was distracting.

More than once, his eyes traveled across Gavin's bare chest, away from the wound on his abdomen. His eyes were mapping out the features of Gavin's body, the lines of his many, many pale scars, the discoloration of fresher bruises, the freckles following the line of his collar bone. Something about a piece of history and uniqueness permanently _written_ on human skin, if you will, had always been fascinating to him, but this being Gavin gave the situation an added ... edge. He wasn't sure what it was, only that it made him restless inside.

It wasn't like this when he was taking care of Hank. With Hank, his hands were never shaking, not even the tiniest amount - unlike now. He tried his best to keep them steady, he really did. He doubted a human would be able to even see the slight tremor running up his limbs, but he knew it was there.

Addressing Gavin's wound didn't take more than ten minutes, all of them spent in a silence that was awkward, yet surprisingly comfortable. A concept Connor hadn't thought possible before. It had felt a lot longer for reason's Connor didn't understand. He was both glad and strangely disappointed that it was over by the time Hank arrived with one of his tamer shirts over his arm - a brown sweatshirt, with a pattern of green and orange vines adorning the thick fabric.

To his surprise, Gavin didn't even say anything about Hank's fashion sense, which was apparently very outdated by human society's standards. He just took it and slipped it on with a muttered "Thanks" and what could possibly pass for a smile. It was way too big and not at all like the casual, simple clothing Gavin seemed to prefer, but he somehow managed to look just as good as he usually did.

"Back to work now, right?"

"I'm still not convinced you should be working at all," Connor mused, but he knew Gavin wouldn't back down.

They made their way upstairs again, with Connor walking next to Gavin, keeping a careful eye on him just in case, and Hank taking the rear, shaking his head and muttering to himself almost furiously.

Silence fell upon the office once they entered, all eyes turned towards them. He could sense Gavin tensing up and, on instinct, put his hand on Gavin's shoulder in a soothing gesture. It only made the stares all the more intense and questioning. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea ...

Gavin, however, straightened his posture in response, shooting defying glances at the people closest to them, daring them to say anything. Nobody did. They made their way over to Gavin's desk without anyone approaching them or speaking up.

"What the fuck happened to the plant?"

"What?"

It took Connor a split second to piece together that Gavin had discovered the succulent in the wastebasket. He was really uncharacteristically distracted today. Maybe his software needed an update?

"I think someone dropped it," Connor said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. He didn't need Gavin marching up towards Andris, looking for a fight. "I could get you a new one."

Gavin just shook his head as he took the pot out of the wastebasket and put it back in his desk. "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure? I could replace the pot at least."

"I said it's fine. I like this one just the way it is. You gave it to me, after all."

Connor had trouble finding an answer to this. Something about those words and the softness in Gavin's voice resonated within him in a way he didn't understand.

"It's broken," he finally said.

"Ah, a little imperfection never hurt anyone, right?"

And then Gavin smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes, lighting them up with a spark that made Connor's whole system stutter. This was ... this was something new, something he hadn't encountered before.

"What the actual fuck did I miss while I was gone?" Hank muttered, just as Tina joined them, obviously curious about the odd situation that was going on.

"I've been here the whole time and I've got no clue what those two have been up to, either,"she said, looking at them like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. "Barely back and already causing a scene, Gav? Nice shirt, by the way."

Gavin just shrugged, plopping down on his chair with a grin.

"I'm trying something new."

And everything, the absurdity of the situation together with the lingering tension in his system, was enough to make Connor laugh out loud, drawing surprised glances from his colleagues. He found he didn't care.


	7. Please say something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for basically ghosting all you wonderful people for months. I had to take a step back and think about stuff and process things. Shit like that. I also fell in and out of the fandom again and again and I needed to focus on something else to get back into writing. But here I am. Like I promised, I would never abandon these stories, because they mean so much to me. I wouldn't have met my wonderful partner without this site and my writing and I got through some rough times while I was on here. Thank you for that. I'll get back to everyone I couldn't answer in the comments yet, I promise!  
> Enjoy the new chapter! And please ignore how rusty I've gotten.

To say Connor was hovering would have been quite the understatement. The day following the restroom incident, Connor was practically glued to Gavin’s side, either leaning over his shoulder while he worked or keeping an eye on him from his place one desk over. It should have been annoying, aggravating even, yet Gavin found he didn’t mind.

On the contrary, he reveled in the soft smiles and gentle touches and whispered questions, asking for reassurance that he was really, truly alright. He was in deep, that was for sure.

He was enjoying the attention maybe a little too much, to be completely honest. He didn’t deserve this. No change of heart and demeanor would ever be enough to make him deserving of someone like Connor. Dorky, caring, badass Connor, who was guarding him like a watchdog – enough so that even Tina hadn’t asked any questions about what had happened yesterday. Really, this guy had a stare so icy, it could make hell freeze over for sure.

And despite knowing he was not good enough, he couldn’t help but bask in whatever kindness Connor was showing him. Not that there was any chance something would come of this stupid little crush, but just being close was enough for now. He could settle for friendship. Right?

What made his resolve crumble bit by bit each time were the compliments. And boy, did Connor know how to be the most awkward and adorable about pointing out things he liked.

As if on cue, Gavin felt a hand come down on his shoulder in a feather light touch. He didn’t even have to look up to see it was Connor. There was something unmistakable in the precise, yet cautious way he moved.

"Hey. Your smile just now was really nice. What's the occasion?"

"Nothing, just thinking. Need something?" Gavin asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Not exactly. I wanted to ask how you were doing, that is all."

"Really, Connor?" Gavin let out an exasperated sigh and let himself fall back even further, tipping his office chair so he could see Connor's face looking down at him with honest concern.

"You should be careful about moving around so much. Please don't aggravate your stitches more than yesterday's ordeal already has."

"I'm recovering from a wound, Connor. That doesn't mean I'm made of glass. I won't break or anything, calm down."

"I am well aware what the makeup of a human body is, Detective -"

"Gavin."

A short pause, with Connor freezing for a split second mid word before a tiny, involuntary smile tucked at his lips. "Gavin. But remember -"

"Connor. Come on, I'm fine. I'm not even in pain or anything."

That was actually a half truth. He could feel the dull ache with every breath he took, but it wasn't any worse than a bit of soreness after a long workout session. Thanks to pain meds, but oh well.

He sat up with a quiet groan, adjusting himself in his seat so that he could resume working on the files he had to sort through. Even though he could no longer look up at Connor, he just knew that the guy had a disapproving frown on his face. He heard a soft sigh before Connor leaned over the back of his chair. Close. So close, Gavin could feel the breath on his cheek.

Fuck. No way he would be able to concentrate like this.

"Gavin."

"I - yes?"

"If I detect the slightest amount of blood on your shirt, because you decided to ignore your injury, I will personally drag you back to the hospital."

"I -"

"In handcuffs, if I must."

"Wow, kinky. Some people might find that more encouraging than discouraging."

Gavin had meant to sound mocking, teasing even. But his voice was shaking and he could feel the heat creeping from his already brightly burning ears to his face. He had to admit that the thought had _something_ to it.

"I'll keep that in mind, for later, thank you."

What the fuck? _For later?_ Holy shit. He must have misheard. But there was no way he had, with how close and clear Connor's voice was to him. He cleared his throat, trying not to look as overwhelmed as he felt.

If Connor had noticed anything off, he didn't let it on. In fact, he sounded surprisingly absent, like he was far away with his thoughts. Curious, Gavin dared to shoot him a look over his shoulder, red face be damned, only to discover that Connor was indeed preoccupied.

He was glaring at the cracked flower pot on Gavin's desk. A pattern Gavin had picked up on a while ago. Whenever Connor came over, for whatever reason, he ended up staring at the broken part of the pot. This really seemed to bother him more than he was willing to let on. He wondered why, but he didn't have enough experience talking to people to ask about feelings and stuff without being awkward.

"Stop that."

"Stop what, Detective?"

"Staring."

"I'm not staring at you."

Gavin had to fight the urge to face palm. Hard. Cocky, evasive Connor was equal parts infuriating and cute - a fact which was driving him fucking mad.

"I mean the flower, smart-ass. If you keep staring at the pot like that, you're gonna give the thing self-image issues."

"It's a flower pot, Detective. An inanimate object. It's not able to feel anything."

"Maybe it's a deviant flower pot, what with the whole trauma of getting thrown in the trash yesterday."

Gavin froze as soon as he finished the sentence.

Fuck. Fuck his no-filter mouth. He hadn't thought that answer through. What if Connor took it as offensive? Shit.

To his utter surprise - and relief - Connor didn't call him out on it. Instead, he laughed quietly, no more than a chuckle. The sound made Gavin's heart flutter.

Yep. He was long past the point of no return.

"Very funny, Detective," Connor muttered. And went right back to staring at the flower pot. Like the whole conversation hadn't happened at all.

"Oh come on. What did I just tell you about staring? At least pick something that can stare back if you absolutely have to."

"If it's a deviant flower pot, maybe it can."

Gavin was about to retort something about Connor being annoyingly smart with him when he stopped himself.

Huh. Well, there was a thought ... The cocky bastard had given Gavin just the right bit of inspiration to be a smart-ass right back at him. And since impulse control had never been Gavin's forte, he quickly grabbed a black marker as well as the pot and started doodling away, leaving Connor blinking in surprise.

It was shocking how natural the movement of the marker felt to him. He hadn't drawn anything in years, not after ... well. Yet it still felt like he had never stopped. The resemblance of a face emerged on the white porcelain background. Big, surprised eyes and a mouth opened to an exaggerated O-shape. There, done.

"Now it can stare back at you for real."

For a while, it was quiet, the only sound being the tapping of the back end of the marker on the table as Gavin waited for a reaction.

He didn't know what he had expected, but Connor reaching out to take the pot in his hands, inspecting it with shining eyes and a smile like child at Christmas was not it. Not that it was a bad thing. On the contrary, it was adorable.

"Fred," Connor suddenly said, with a matter of fact kind of voice that didn't fit his giddy expression at all.

"Come again?"

"Fred," Connor repeated. "That's a good name for the flower and the drawing. I think it looks like a Fred."

"Are ... are you naming my decorations?"

"Yes. Do you not like it? You can choose a different name of course. It was just a suggestion."

He looked so sincere, Gavin didn't have the heart to tell him how weird it was to name a flower, let alone a quick, meaningless drawing on a cracked pot.

"Fred, huh?" he mumbled, earning himself a pleased grin form Connor that made his heart beat a tiny bit faster. "Okay then."

Connor looked like he wanted to say something else, but the booming voice of Fowler interrupted them, calling Connor over. Gavin watched him go, lost in thought. When he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, his hand went to work immediately, picking up where he'd left off. He ignored the slight pain and the soft shaking of his muscles and kept going, doodling away. Picture after tiny picture, quick, messy sketches, one after every file he finished going through.

Before he clocked out for the afternoon, he left one on Connor's desk, a drawing of the cat balloon Connor had given him for his birthday. It was probably worse than anything Connor could do himself with his programming, but Gavin had a suspicion he wouldn't care. He seemed to enjoy pointless, human things. It was one of his best qualities, if Gavin was being completely honest.

 

\---

 

Hank had had enough. Connor being distracted was a thing that happened more frequently, the more human he became. Connor not even pretending to listen, staring out the car window with a blank expression and sighing every other minute or so was reaching levels of "being distracted" Hank didn't like in the least. Not to mention the weird, heavy atmosphere in the car that was getting on his nerves by making him worried. Which was annoying him, since he knew he was in dad mode and overreacting. Which, in turn, was getting on his nerves even more. Vicious cycle if he'd ever seen one.

All overly emotional hogwash aside, there was a way more practical reason to break Connor out of whatever the hell this was. He needed a partner who had his head in the game, especially since he himself could tell he was getting older. Things didn't come all that easy to him anymore, from searching for clues at crime scenes to smoking out criminals in hiding and facing off with them. Ugh, better not think about that too much.

"Hey Connor."

Nothing.

"Connor."

Still silence.

"Goddammit, Connor, I'm talking to you!"

This seemed to finally snap him out of it. "I'm sorry, Hank, did you need something?"

"I need you to pay attention, Connor. What if I just told you some important detail about our case and you just didn't listen?"

For a moment, Connor was silent, LED spinning. Then a smile crossed his face.

"My secondary audio memory just confirmed that five minutes ago, you reminded me of getting wet food for Sumo tomorrow. Not exactly case relevant, I reckon."

Hank scoffed, trying to look as annoyed as humanly possible.

"That's a neat trick you have there, but by now I am fully aware of how your damn memory works. And secondary means it gets deleted unless you make an effort to transfer the information to long term or something. You would've just forgotten the dog food in a few hours."

"You pay a lot of attention," Connor said, smirking. "I'm touched, Hank."

"Well, I, too, would be touched - or at least a lot happier - if you paid more attention to me and this fucking case."

Yep, there it was, the guilty face with the light pout and frown. It was so easy to read when Connor was aware he'd fucked up.

"I'm sorry, Hank. I was just ... thinking."

"About what?"

"Detective Reed."

Hank had to suppress the urge to slam on the brakes and pull over to the side of the road.

"Reed? Still? You were thinking about him when I asked half an hour ago! I even told you to try and think about something else."

Connor crossed his arms in a defensive gesture, staring straight ahead to avoid looking at Hank.

"I did think about something else. For a while. And then I remembered I need to water my plants tomorrow, which made me think about the succulent I gave him. He has been taking really good care of it, you know? I think he's following my instructions very closely."

"Alright, alright, you can stop."

Fuck him, but the smile Connor reconstructed his thought process with was definitely more than fond. That was a lovestruck puppy look. It was like that all the time when the conversation turned to Reed. Which, thanks to Connor, was a lot of the times lately.

Shit. Why Reed? Why him of all people? Sure, he had mellowed out over the last few weeks, and what he had done to keep Connor safe in the field was admirable. Not to mention the way both of them acted around each other since the bathroom incident. All the little gestures and signals and ... God, this was mutual. He'd known, on some level, but he hadn't acknowledged it consciously. Wow.

"Hank?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you stop the car?"

Wait, he had? Damn. At least his body knew best when his brain was too preoccupied to drive.

He looked over at Connor, prepared to advise him not to pursue someone like Gavin motherfucking Reed, but to his surprise - or not, if he was being completely honest - Connor was staring out into traffic again with this dreamlike expression.

"Detective Reed has a car the same color as that one," he stated, clearly lost to reality yet again.

Hank just shook his head, not bothering to look at whatever car Connor meant.

"This needs to stop."

"What does?" Connor asked, turning to face him with confusion and curiosity in his eyes.

"You need to get this out of your system."

"Get what out? Have you spotted an error? Do I need to run analytics?"

Hank just barely managed not to face palm at this lovable idiot.

"Worse. You're driving me crazy with your obsession with Reed."

"I'm not obsessed," Connor mumbled, his frown more prominent than before. "I just find him complex, fascinating and kind -"

"Stop right there." Goddammit. This was a mistake, but maybe one Connor needed to make to move on. "You shouldn't be telling me that, you should be telling him that."

The deer in headlights look on Connor's face made the terrible suggestion almost worth it.

"But ... how would I do that? And why? What if I make him uncomfortable?"

"I don't fucking know, Connor. Ask him out on a date or something. If he says yes, that's a good first step."

It was silent for a long time until Connor finally nodded.

"Alright. I'll ask him. But what do I do after that? And what if he says no?"

"If he says no, you'll drop the topic and move on. If he says yes, well, you'll figure it out along the way. You've got this."

Never in his life had Hank uttered a series of words he had been believing in as much as he was doubting them. This whole situation was a disaster, no matter the outcome.

"Can you help me learn about dates?"

God, how he missed having drinks after work to unwind.

 

\---

 

If boredom had a bastard cousin, it would be desk duty. At least that was what it felt like to Gavin. It had all the bad qualities to bore him to death with mindless filing and sorting and lack of anything interesting, all while managing to stress him out with the sheer amount of tedious, often time sensitive tasks.

Doodling in his downtime helped, even if it put a strain on his hand. He really had to thank Connor for getting him back into it.

Speaking of Connor. The fact that he was out and about most days, doing actual investigative work with Hank, only added to the subtle torture that was Gavin’s life at the moment. He missed Connor’s presence, his remarks about his silly drawings or how the color of his shirt complimented his eyes and … What? Wasn’t he allowed to enjoy the attention of someone he was crushing on hard?

Gavin sighed, leaning back a bit in his chair – and almost choked on his own spit when he came face to face with the black haired rookie staring down at him. Fuck.

He was aware that he probably looked like a scared little bitch right now, pale and wide-eyed, hands twitching in his lap. He wasn’t scared, though. He was furious. The bastard had been wise to avoid him after the stunt he had pulled the other day. Apparently, the wisdom had run out.

“The fuck do you want, idiot?” Gavin snarled, pushing himself up to stand and glare at him.

Despite the height difference, the rookie actually looked intimidated, raising his hands while worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

“Chill, dude, I just wanted to talk!”

Huh. Curious. Not that he believed him on this.

“About what?”

“About how you should call off your robo boyfriend!”

Gavin blinked at him, surprised by the shrill, panicked tone of his voice.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Looking frantic, the rookie took a piece of paper from his jacket, shoving it at Gavin, who took it without thinking. It was a crumpled note with messy handwriting on it.

**Keep your mouth shut.**

“What the fuck? Why are you giving me this?”

“Your precious android fucking cornered me after our fight and now these stupid notes keep turning up in my locker. I know it’s him. It’s gotta be. Call him off! I did what he asked, so why does he threaten me not to talk about it? Why would I go around admitting that he has me pissing my fucking pants?”

Gavin felt his jaw drop at the barrage of words that barely made sense to him. “Slow down. What was that about Connor threatening you after the fight?“

Threats... On the one hand, it was odd imagining goofy, smiley Connor doing something like that. Then again, he could switch between being a dork and being a cold as ice badass motherfucker in the blink of an eye, and he was scary when he did that, so… Yeah, the more he thought about it, the more Gavin could see Connor threatening the rookie for someone he liked. But for him? That carried some implications he didn’t feel comfortable thinking about. He didn’t deserve this.

The rookie swallowed hard, oblivious to Gavin's inner turmoil as he was busy looking around the – largely empty – station with quick, nervous glances.

“He was really pissed off about me punching you in the stomach.”

“He was?”

A blank stare answered him, the kind of stare that was meant to ask if he was fucking serious.

“Dude, I thought he was gonna rip my throat out. The damn machine could have done it, too. He told me to stay away from you, and I did. And now he’s leaving me messages like this one. That’s fucked up!”

Gavin blinked at the nervous wreck in front of him, comparing this mess of a man to the overly confident bully he had come to know him as. It was almost pitiful, seeing him like that. However, it was also a bit satisfying.

"I swear I didn’t mean to hit your stitches. I fucking hate you, but I don’t want you to end up at the hospital or something. And I left you alone after I saw you bleeding. Isn't that enough?”

Left him alone after that, huh?

"So you didn't follow me?"

"What? No, why would I do that?" The rookie looked honestly lost and confused, so much so that Gavin didn't even consider that he could be lying about looking him up in the bathroom. Nah, the guy didn't seem smart or cunning enough for that at all.

Gavin took his time staring at the rookie in silence, gears turning in his head. It didn't make sense for Connor to write notes, not to mention with human handwriting. All notes Gavin had ever seen of him had been in neat, perfect Cyberlife font. And why would Connor go out of his way to make the rookie keep his mouth shut? Because of the threat? In light of the recent events, a write up would be in store for him, maybe, but the rookie on the other hand would be suspended for his actions.

It didn't fit, no matter how Gavin twisted and turned the pieces in his head.

"You think so?"

"Huh?"

He looked up at the rookie, confused. Had he been muttering again? Voicing his thoughts out loud? He hadn't even noticed. But the look of contemplation on the rookie's face turning to wide eyed realization told him all you needed to know. And it made him worry. The guy was suddenly quiet and pale and appeared like he was about to bolt.

"Did you think of something?" Gavin asked, subtly stepping closer to the rookie in case he really wanted to run, but the guy just shrugged and shook his head in silence.

"I -"

The ringing of Gavin's phone disrupted whatever the dude was about to say, startling Gavin. He scrambled to pick up the call and by the time he turned around again, the rookie was gone.

"Fuck."

"Is this a bad time, Detective?"

What the -?

"Connor? Why are you calling? You usually just text when we're at work."

"I'm sorry, I can text if that's more convenient to you. But I wanted to ask you in person."

Gavin ran a hand through his hair, blinking like a confused owl.

"No, no, it's fine. What did you want to ask? Is everything alright with you and Hank?"

Connor took a moment to answer, but when he did, his voice sounded like he was smiling.

"Everything is just fine, thank you, Detective."

"Gavin."

"I am aware of your name."

"Smart-ass. Then use it, for fuck's sake."

By now, Connor was laughing and Gavin couldn't help but grin in response.

"Alright, _Gavin_. Would you like to go on a date with me?"

_Huh?_

"Huh?"

What.

"Detective?"

Gavin opened his mouth, but no words came out, just weird, strangled sounds.

"Gavin? Are you alright? Do you need help? Could you please say something for me?"

Maybe it was the frantic questions or the genuinely worried tone, maybe it was just that it was him, but something about hearing Connor's voice like that snapped him out of his brain stutter.

"Yes," he finally managed to force out. "The answer is yes. Of course it's yes, you damn robo-idiot."

Laughter at the other end of the line, soft and sweet and relieved.

"I'm glad."

Fuck, he was way too into this guy.

 


	8. Lie to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I go again. This got out of hand. It started as a single scene and now it's an entire chapter. I didn't expect the mild sexual content, either. If you're not into that, just skip the last part. It's really not explicit, more heavily implied, but not everyone likes that. For those who do skip, I'll add a note with a piece of new info about Gavin at the end.  
> I expect one more chapter at least, maybe two. The end is nigh! Enjoy the chapter <3

Gavin had no memories of how he had managed to finish his workday without fainting. To be fair, he had no memories of anything beyond his overly enthusiastic "yes" during the phone call, other than a steadily growing feeling of anxiety and disbelief.

He didn't even remember how he had gotten home. Just that he had raided his closet the second the door to his apartment had fallen shut behind him. Like a fucking lovestruck teenager preparing for his first date ever. An embarrassing thought.

He remained a mess all afternoon and when Connor came to pick him up in Hanks rusty old (fucking beautiful) car, looking like a supermodel in his casual jeans and pale blue shirt, hair slightly ruffled instead of sleeked back, Gavin was sure he had died and gone to heaven. Except for the fact that his hands were sweaty and his heart was pounding in his chest. Pretty sure such a thing as heaven would not have the cold sweat of nervousness and doom.

Dramatic much? This wasn't a _date_ date. This was just a friendly outing. Right? He should calm the fuck down.

At least the bar they decided on was a nice looking place with soft background music and plenty of sofa-like seats in the front next to the windows. Which was where they ended up, with Connor sitting across from him, watching and smiling his goofy, lopsided smile.

"How was your day, Gavin?"

"Uh. Fine."

Wow, great conversation, buddy. At least he didn't sound as strangled and low on oxygen as he felt.

"Did you draw again?"

"Yeah."

Oh for fuck's sake, what was wrong with him? He usually couldn't shut up when he needed to, how was he so tongue tied when it was actually a good think to blabber away about nonsense and stuff? You know, the kind of things Connor liked to talk about so much?

"Are you alright, Detective?"

Fuck. Now Connor was starting to look worried, the smile gone and his posture more upright and less relaxed. That was until he blinked a few times, pressing the tips of his hands together like he was thinking about something very hard. And with that, the smile was back, shifting into an impish grin.

"Let's play a game, Gavin. Just to break the ice, so to speak."

Gavin frowned, leaning back in his seat a bit. "But we've known each other for some time now. Isn't breaking the ice something for getting to know someone?"

"You're quite tense, though, Detective. Maybe if you explain why, we can resolve this another way?"

"I'm just ..."

Well shit, he couldn't outright say that he was fucking mortified of messing up this date or whatever, because he liked Connor more than he should. "What game were you thinking about?"

"Two truths and a lie."

What.

"Why would you want to play that? It's something high-schoolers and sometimes drunk college kids do."

Connor shrugged, his expression unreadable. "It has got you talking already, so that's a win in my book. Plus, I haven't played it before. This would be my first time."

Fuck. Shit. Damn. No way he would deny Connor the experience then, despite the cringe. He sighed. "Alright, bring it on. You get to guess first. But no bullshit like reading my pulse or something."

The sly, almost cocky expression on Connor's face was adoringly infuriating. Gavin almost couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Of course. We'll do it the human way. Everything else would defeat the purpose of the game."

Not much of a purpose, was there? Except for breaking the ice, like Connor had said, and providing opportunities for some meaningless deductions and guesses. He didn't say that out loud, though. If it made Connor happy, he would play all the stupid games in the world.

So... Fun facts. Or cool facts... Or at least halfway interesting truths. Things Connor didn't know about him yet, which was the tricky part, in case he had watched Gavin as closely as he suspected, and read his file. But he should at least try and come up with something.

"Well," he started off. "I can write with both hands, but I can only draw with my left. It always looks off when I try with my right."

Connor didn't say anything yet, he was just watching him with curiosity in his eyes, so Gavin continued with the next best thing that came to mind.

"I was a bad student until my uncle sent me to boarding school when I was twelve. Missed classes, unfinished assignments, terrible behavior, falling asleep at my desk. The works."

The slight grin on Connor's face told him that Connor had already figured out this was true, but Gavin wasn't disappointed he was so easy to figure out. He simply enjoyed the lighter atmosphere and how Connor seemed to be having a good time. This had never been about "winning", if there even was such a thing as winning a game that wasn't even all that competitive.

"You still are a bit of a wild card today, aren't you?" Connor asked, grinning at him. "A bit rowdy, angry, unpredictable at times."

"You've got that right. Playing nice isn't really in my game plan."

A thoughtful gaze met his own as Connor rested his head on the back of his hand, observing him.

"That's not quite true, is it? You can be very nice. You do a lot of things that go unnoticed."

Gavin didn't know what to say, so he just stared at Connor wide eyed and silent.

"You are always willing to help when I need you." Connor's voice was so warm, so gentle, almost as gentle as his smile. "I like this side of you. It's genuine. And it makes me feel at ease around you."

Oh dear god. How the fuck was he supposed to handle this? Gavin could feel the heat crawling up his neck, his heart hammering in his chest, the sweet ache that went as deep as his bones. He had to move on. Get past this moment that had left him sappy and emotional and barely holding onto his poker face.

The lie. He still had to finish the game and lie to Connor. Thankfully, he had always been a pretty convincing liar, telling blatantly false things and tall tales with the necessary calm and confidence. Which was why he was shocked when the following words left his mouth before he could stop himself:

"I wasn't sad when my parents died. I was relieved."

Fuck.

Connor just looked at him in what seemed like equal parts disbelief and awe, clearly trying to process what was going on. Seconds went by, stretching into hours, days, weeks in Gavin's mind. But Connor's thoughtful, almost removed expression soon returned, only betrayed by the softness in his eyes. He knew it was true. Yet he didn't ask about what he had meant, what had happened, what his parents had done. He didn't ask, and Gavin was grateful for it, because otherwise he might have run away. Instead, he stayed, waiting until Connor spoke up again.

"You haven't told me a single lie," Connor said, with a voice so quiet and _fragile_ , it was almost impossible to hear over the background noise "Why?"

Fucking why, indeed. Gavin had no idea. He hadn't wanted to come out and ruin the night with sad confessions nobody had asked for. So he sighed, then frowned, then scoffed. Reverting back to his unbothered persona was easy, a well practiced mask to fall back on.

"Maybe I wanted to confuse you or trick you. Maybe I find playing by the rules boring. Or maybe I figured there wasn't a point in lying. Your guess is as good as mine."

Or maybe he didn't feel the need to lie, didn't _want_ to lie to Connor.

It was silent for a long time, until a waiter got to their table and took their drink orders - or rather Gavin's order for a single beer, since Connor couldn't drink. By whatever graces, the guy was oblivious or indifferent to the strange and heavy mood and left quickly without getting involved. He really just wanted something stronger, but he couldn't get drunk. Getting drunk was dangerous, he might start to talk. By the time the waiter was gone, Connor had put on this eerily neutral expression, mixed up by the occasional unreadable frown or smile. It was startling how well he could mask his emotions.

"My turn," he said, and Gavin would have been surprised at the continuation of the game, had it not been such a very Connor thing to do. _Keep going until the mission is complete_. "First: I named each and everyone of your drawings. The one of the balloon cat is named Oscar, by the way."

Gavin couldn't hide the relieved sigh.Thank god they weren't on the depressing subjects anymore. He would have hated to have permanently ruined things between them. Honesty was a heavy load to carry.

"Second: I used to be very out of place at work. But now that I have you to talk to, I don't feel like that anymore. Or maybe I just don't care about fitting in as much."

Wow. Gavin never would have guessed with how cheery Connor often appeared to be at work. And the fact that he had made things better for him ... That had some impact on him, like a punch to the gut, but in a good way. Or something. It was hard to explain, but he couldn't help but smile for a split second, almost forgetting the sad, confused mood he had put himself in.

"I have a feeling this one is true. And I'm glad if it is," Gavin said without thinking, heat creeping onto his face immediately. "But, I mean, continue. You're still a truth or a lie short."

Laughing (Why was he so cute when he laughed?) Connor shook his head in a way Gavin could only describe as fond.

"I was getting to it," he stated, eyes sparkling for a moment, until his whole expression changed from playful to serious. Gavin could feel his heart skip a beat. He was captivated by the unexpected shift, almost at the edge of his seat as he waited for Connor to continue.

As luck would have it, though, the waiter returned with the drink, disrupting the moment. Gavin somehow managed to pull off the paradox of not acknowledging him at all while immediately grabbing the beer and hanging onto it for dear life.

When Connor spoke up again after the waiter left, his voice was clear, even and impossible not to pay attention to.

"I've never been attracted to anyone."

For some weird reason Gavin felt the urge to swallow at this answer. Hard. His chest was strangely tight. Oh god. If this was one of the truths. Or a lie, because both scenarios scared him to death. Fuck. This shouldn't concern him at all. But it did.

Lost in the haze of his thoughts, he barely even noticed how long he had stayed silent, simply staring at Connor with wide eyes.

"Gavin?"

"Huh?"

"You are supposed to guess the truths and the lie. I promise that I, for my part, played fair."

Despite the light tone and the teasing, there was a hint of concern on Connors face, probably because Gavin had just frozen up like a deer in headlights without warning. _Yay me for being an idiot. As always._

"Yeah, right, sorry. I was just … thinking."

"About my answers?"

"Well, yes, about those," Gavin confirmed - it wasn't a lie after all. It was the truth, he just wasn't admitting to what the implications were doing to him. "You've definitely named those stupid doodles I've made. You named Fred after all. You name absolutely everything, come to think of it, even the plants on your desk!"

"Of course. They are alive and I am taking care of them. It's only natural to name them. They are also very pretty."

"That," Gavin said, pausing for dramatic effect, but also in an attempt to contain the hysterical, desperate laughter threatening to break out of him, "is the most Connor thing I have heard you say today."

Connor cocked his head to the side, smiling yet confused. "But - since I am Connor, isn't everything I say a Connor thing?"

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much his head was spinning and his anxiety was screaming at him that he was being ridiculous, Gavin couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"That's also a very Connor thing to say."

By now, Connor was frowning slightly, his LED flashing yellow, processing the conversation.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand. I apologize if I said something weird."

He didn't look troubled at all, despite his apology. More like he was really trying to solve an intriguing puzzle. Gavin actually liked it when Connor got a bit confused, shifting his focus to a mundane thing he hadn't managed to wrap his head around yet. Like it was the most intricate mystery. Damn, there he went again, focusing on his crush when he really shouldn't.

"It's not weird. Or maybe a bit weird. In a good way."

"Thank you, Gavin. That's reassuring. Would you like to return to the game?"

"Oh, yeah." Right back to the dilemma. "Well, I already told you I thought the second thing you said was true. About not feeling out of place anymore."

"You're very observant, Detective."

That was as good as a confirmation already. So that left the last statement. The lie.

"So... You have been attracted to someone before."

Connor didn't smile, not quite, but his face relaxed a bit and the corners of his mouth twitched. "I still am."

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

"Do I know them?"

The almost-smile turned into a real one, a smile with an edge to it, like it was mocking him for even asking.

"I'd say you know him very well."

Gavin knew. He knew because there was no way to misinterpret what was happening here. Not after the game and the looks and gestures and the fact that Connor had asked him out in the first place.

Yet that only made him terrified. He shouldn't be here, be the one. It wasn't right. Maybe it was denial, maybe it was him being the asshole after all, but he just couldn't believe it. Why would Connor want him?

So he scoffed, shaking his head violently.

"What's up with you this evening? Saying strange stuff, evading questions like you're trying to tease me. Like you mean me when you speak of being into someone. One might mistake this for a real date."

God, he hated himself for those words, that tone, everything. He wanted to laugh, he really did, just to ease the tension in his muscles a bit, get a bit of the nervous energy out of his system. He couldn't when he noticed Connor shifting next to him, an almost wounded expression on his face.

"I would like to think of this as a real date," Connor said and his voice was so soft, Gavin almost missed it with the sound of the music and the mumbling conversations around them. "For me, it was real from the beginning."

A second passed. Two. Three. And Gavin, even though he had heard the words, was still somehow sure that he had been mistaken after all.

Because why on earth would Connor, magnificent, bright Connor, want to get so close to him? Was he even aware of what attraction like that meant? Yet everything about this evening, their interactions, their questions and answers, the lies and the truths, told him that he was.

Fuck.

Afraid of saying something stupid, or anything at all, Gavin grabbed his bottle of beer, downing most of the content in a single big gulp.

He was not prepared to speak up again and he was even less prepared for Connor to do so. Much less for what he ended up saying.

"I think I like you."

Gavin nearly spat out his drink at that.

"What?"

"I like you."

No "think" this time, Gavin couldn't help but notice. And fuck him if this didn't make his heart pick up the pace a little. Fuck, Connor couldn't mean that, not really. He swallowed hard and let his gaze dart to Connor's face, only to find him already studying his expression with unveiled fascination.

"Jeez. I heard you just fine the first time, stupid. Just … what do you even mean, you like me?"

Connor simply laughed, casually resting his chin on his hand. He looked confident, but it was nothing but a show; Gavin could easily read this hint of nervousness in his movements, see the faint glimmer in his eyes. Not to mention the yellow ring on his temple. And he had no idea if this was a secret turn on of his he hadn't known about or if it was because it was Connor, but damn if this hidden vulnerability didn't make him weak in the knees. His own desires were working against him at this point.

"Let me paraphrase," Connor said with a voice that was low, almost secretive. "After the lie I told, you must have figured out that I am attracted to you, Gavin. You're certainly smart enough. Why are you so desperate to deny it?"

Shit.

Gavin would have dropped his beer if not for Connor's hands closing around his own, cool and smooth and firm. He couldn't help but stare at the place they were touching, in awe at the contrast between them. Connor's perfect, flawless hands next to his own scars, all the cuts and burns and rough patches. It looked unreal, two people worlds apart.

Connor taking the beer from him and placing it on the table was enough to make Gavin snap back to reality. One of Connor's hands was still holding onto his. A feather light touch, certainly not enough or even intended to keep him in place.

He could have pulled away immediately. He really should have. He did not. Would not - not with Connor's thumb tracing the lines of his scars like this. Like he was something precious.

"Why?" he croaked out after a moment of stunned silence. "Why would you like someone like me? That's stupid."

He could feel Connor's eyes on him, but he didn't dare look up from their joined hands. He was being a coward again, fucking great. Just why? Why did Connor always bring out his weaknesses, every part of him he had believed dead a long time ago?

"I didn't know feelings were supposed to be based on rationality and smart choices," Connor replied, his words just laced with gentle teasing. "But I can tell you what I like about you. All of it, if you have the time."

Fuck. Had the bastard downloaded a program on how to do emotional stuff like this? Because that … Gavin could not handle that. He wanted to say something. Something snarky. But his mouth was too dry, so he just took another sip of his beer.

Connor continued to smile at him, this infuriating, knowing smile.

"There's the first thing," he said softly. "You get flustered when you are complimented, or when people are kind to you. I didn't notice for a long time, because you tend to brush those interactions off rather aggressively."

"I - Shut up, you giant idiot," Gavin muttered, taking another, longer sip of his drink.

"See?"

Goddammit, he sounded so smug. Gavin wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle him or kiss him and - holy fuck, where had that come from?

"It makes me want to shower you with attention," Connor said when Gavin didn't react, "until you grow used to it and just accept what I want to give you."

Holy crap.

"Why?"

"You deserve it."

Shit. Fuck. Shit!

Gavin didn't know what to think or feel anymore. This was just … unreal. Like looking in on what was going on from a stranger's perspective instead of his own.

Why would Connor say that? It wasn't true. It was simply not true. Gavin was a garbage person. He had always been a garbage person.

"You're wrong," he mumbled, looking up briefly to find Connor shaking his head in disagreement. There was a spark of quiet determination in his eyes.

"You deserve it," Connor repeated, no doubt in his words, no room for an argument about his statement.

Gavin wouldn't have been Gavin if he hadn't tried anyway.

"Sorry, but you've got that wrong. I don't deserve anything. I'm not a good person."

It was simply the truth. It had been the truth for as long as Gavin could remember. He just wasn't nice or kind or even fucking smart to make up for it.

"You are a good person to me," Connor said and there was something about the look on his face that had Gavin shrug off his rambling thoughts to just quietly listen for a change. "I won't idolize you. I know you haven't always been like you are now and I know you won't always make the best decisions."

"Damn right," Gavin muttered, going for another sip of his beer before he noticed he had finished it already. Damn. He wasn't nearly intoxicated enough to have a talk like this, let alone in public. Yet he didn't have it in him to shut this conversation down and just leave. "I am a garbage human being. Everybody knows that. You of all people should know that."

Connor's hand tightened around his own once more, nearly painfully so.

"You are flawed," he said, his tone soft, careful. And yeah, Gavin was aware of the truth. He was more than aware. He had heard and said worse things about himself and he had wanted Connor to agree with the sentiment. Right? Then why did this one sentence weigh down on him like a thousand ton stone in his chest?

"You are flawed. But so am I. So is everybody. It's part of being alive."

All Gavin could do was stare. Stare into those captivating eyes. These words could have been a platitude. Something vague and meaningless and aggravating, if not for how earnest they sounded. Connor meant it, Gavin knew; he almost wanted to believe him.

"What everyone else thinks or does is their concern. But I need you to know that you have more than made up for your past when it comes to me."

His heart turned from concrete block heavy to some light fluttery bullshit and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel like maybe he wasn't the worst after all.

He lowered his gaze to his hands again, to the one still held in Connor's own, and all he wished for was to pull away. He didn't. His body didn't seem to agree with his mind at all. And when Connor tightened his grip, his thumb once again running lines and small circles across Gavin's skin, he wasn't so sure he had wanted to move in the first place.

"You are good to me," Connor said again and this time, Gavin didn't reply. "You take my concerns seriously. You listen to me, talk to me, explain things I do not understand on my own. We argue, yes, but you never try to intentionally hurt me. Not anymore. Is it any wonder why I like you?"

Finally, Gavin didn't have any words anymore to disagree with Connor. He was stunned into silence, inside and out, trying to breathe without hyperventilating.

He wanted to get away, yet he didn't. He wanted to turn back time and never agree to this date, yet he wouldn't have missed these memories, these feelings for anything. He wanted ... he wanted to kiss Connor, and instead of banishing the thought to the back of his head, he let his gaze linger on Connor's lips, getting closer ever so slightly. And Connor, reading him like a book, answered his desires and captured his lips with his own.

For whatever reason, Gavin had expected the kiss to be extraordinary. Like fire and lightning and something otherworldly. You know, like kissing someone who wasn’t on the same plane of existence as him.

It wasn’t extraordinary. It was awkward and sweet and absolutely natural. Just two guys with a crush taking the next step. Everything about it made his heart melt. He wouldn’t have traded the softness of Connor’s lips for the world.

It was just right. But also too much to bear.

“Connor,” he mumbled, as he broke away, unable to open his eyes again just yet. “Stop. We can’t do this.”

“Why not? I want this. Don’t you?”

He did. He wasn't able to lie about that.

“Of course I want this. But you shouldn’t.”

“That doesn’t change that you and I both do. Why not try it?”

“No, I -” He couldn’t. He didn’t even have the courage to face Connor, so he buried his face in his hands, fully aware of how much he was shaking. That was when he felt Connor’s hands touching his fingers, prying them away from his eyes gently, but firmly.

“Gavin. Gavin, look at me. Please.” He tried, he really tried to keep his eyes squeezed shut, but he didn’t have it in him to deny the request.

Connor’s gaze was warm as it met his, his irises almost black in the low light of the bar.

“Please help me understand. Why can’t we try if we both want to?”

This was it. The one chance to stop this before he went too far to go back again. It hurt so much to voice his thoughts aloud, but he had to, for Connor’s sake.

“I’m not good for you.”

“You’ve been very good for me so far.”

“But I’m a total asshole.”

Connor seemed unbothered by this statement. In fact, he was smiling. “So am I, if someone gives me a reason to be. Plus, I think I can handle you if you need a reminder of how to treat me and others.”

Gavin found he was at a loss for words for a few moments, but he couldn’t deny there was some truth to what Connor had said.

“You deserve better. I’m antisocial, I barely have friends, I don’t really have any hobbies and I work too much. I’ll be dead by fifty from stress and lack of sleep and shitty eating habits. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“We’re similar, in a way,” Connor said, ignoring the frantic tone of Gavin’s arguments,. “I am still learning how to handle people. I’m often harassed and hated. I won’t fault you for who you are, as long as you aren’t malicious. Let me decide for myself what I do and don’t want to deal with. And I want to deal with you, all of you.”

Shit. Ever so slowly, Gavin could feel his resolve crumble with each word Connor uttered, each second spent staring into his eyes. Maybe he ...

“I have enough baggage for at least five people, Connor.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do! I have a fucked up past, a fucked up present, and probably a fucked up future as well.”

“I am fully aware of that.”

Gavin blinked in surprise - and a bit of horror.

“You are?”

The expression on Connor’s face changed from warmth to something hard, almost analytical, but still far from cold. “You remember what I am, don't you?”

How could he forget? Connor was brilliant, bright, far beyond him and humanity in general.

“I have noticed signs of unresolved trauma. I won't pry, but I'm here if you want to talk about that. I can also see your troubles trusting others and relinquishing control over any situation. I know about your anger issues firsthand, though I’m impressed with how far you’ve come regarding those. I have also picked up on the self-destructive tendencies in the way you work yourself to the bone.”

“Then why?” Gavin asked, his voice just above a whisper at this point. “Why aren’t you running away screaming?”

“Because,” Connor said, “I know you are much more than your flaws. Like I said before, you are kind, curious, smart. You’re also creative and you care more than you let on. You’re willing to learn from your mistakes and move on to better yourself. I admire that. More than anything, though, I simply happen to like you. As a friend, but also as a romantic partner. It was easy to fall for you, because you intrigue me, challenge me, surprise me every single day.”

Not knowing what else to do, Gavin broke away from Connor’s gaze, opting to stare at their intertwined fingers instead, completely lost.

“You’re insane, Connor.”

“Maybe. But I don’t see you running from me, either.”

“I guess we’re both insane, then.”

A soft chuckle drew Gavin’s attention upwards again. His eyes locked unto Connor’s lips, the way they curved as he smiled, trembling ever so slightly. The grip on his hands loosened, but Connor didn’t let go yet.

“I have said my piece, Detective. All you have to do to deny me is tell me or pull away right now, and I’ll never mention this again. We’ll go back to being friends.”

Gavin couldn’t will himself to speak or move. He wanted this, no matter how much his rational self screamed at him to be responsible. He even leaned in when Connor went to kiss him again. A deep, slow, agonizing kiss that left him desperately wanting more. So he wrapped his arms around Connor’s neck and pulled him into another hungry kiss, and another, until he was out of breath and dizzy and hot and cold all over.

And it still wasn’t enough.

He didn’t hesitate to say as much when he pulled Connor out of the bar, blindly dropping some change on the table on his way out. After everything, after Connor’s confession and shows of affection, after the weeks of longing for this, convinced he was deceiving himself with his wants and needs, he didn’t have it in him to run away from this mess.

It was Connor’s choice, too, wasn’t it? Even if he underestimated what he was getting himself into. There was no resolve left in Gavin to reject him again.

Fuck being responsible.

 

 

\---

 

 

Connor was everywhere. The bittersweet taste in his mouth. The smell of clean clothes and dust and something cool, almost metallic. Soft skin, a firm frame, and nimble hands roaming his body, unable to come to a rest anywhere, grabbing his clothes, his hair, his hips.

All he had to do was focus on the sensations. _Don’t think. Just don’t think._

They had picked up where they had left of at the bar before the door to Gavin’s apartment had even fallen shut behind them. It was dark, but he didn’t need light to find his own bedroom. It seemed Connor didn’t either, because halfway there he took the lead, pulling Gavin in for a kiss while guiding him backwards.

“Damn. Did you map out my apartment when you were last here?” Gavin asked, halfway between laughing and panting.

“Yes. Every detail.”

“That’s a bit creepy, but also kinda hot.”

Connor grinned before he leaned in, letting his lips ghost along the tip of Gavin’s ear, making him shudder. “I don’t know whether to apologize or say you’re welcome.”

“I – fuck!”

He hadn’t noticed Connor’s hands finding the hem of his shirt until his slightly cool hands touched his bare skin underneath, slowly traveling higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They brushed against the tender skin around his healing stitches and he moaned. It didn't hurt, far from it. Gavin was simply overwhelmed by how careful yet daring Connor was, how vulnerable he felt, in the best way possible.

It had been so long, he’d forgotten how amazing it was to be touched. Or maybe it was because he was with Connor. He wanted to get even closer, come undone in his embrace, but even through the haze of lust and adoration, he was very aware of how he was moving and where he could and couldn’t allow Connor to explore. All he wanted was to give into his urges, feel some pleasure; he didn’t need to spill the secrets on his skin to someone who would be able to read them like a book.

He slipped out of his clothes when Connor unbuttoned his own shirt with an almost shy smile, making sure to keep his back turned away from his soon-to-be lover.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough, as he pulled Connor with him onto the bed.

To his surprise, Connor hadn’t stripped down completely yet, still wearing his jeans, and it didn’t look like he was going to. He met Gavin’s confused look with burning, pleading eyes.

“Let me have you like this,” he begged, trailing kisses from Gavin’s jawline downwards, caressing every inch of skin with a mix of uncertainty and precision that was making Gavin’s head spin. “I just want to see and feel and taste you. Please.”

Any answer Gavin could have come up with got lost in the incredible sensations that left him a gasping, thrashing mess, completely at Connor’s mercy.

"Please, Gavin."

"Y-yes. God, yes."

He finally allowed himself to fall into this rabbit hole completely, forgetting about his guilt and worry and how bad of an idea this was. He just felt. So much, it was driving him mad until he became unraveled, lost in the touch and the kisses and the sweet nothings whispered in his ears.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piece of info for people who didn't read the sexual content: Gavin keeps his back turned away from Connor the entire time to hide some scars from him. He knows Connor would be able to interpret them correctly.


End file.
